


Of Times of Peace

by Sargerogue



Series: The Line of Wanderers [14]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, I am seriously not naming everyone, M/M, There are hobbits, and dwarves, and elves, and men - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 69,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sargerogue/pseuds/Sargerogue
Summary: Peace has returned to Erebor. Now to heal and put the mountain back in shape.





	1. 11-3-2941, Erebor

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry for not getting back to this sooner. Life just decided to flip me off big time and then I went on this Young Justice kick for a bit, got swamped with homework, and now I'm doing this instead of writing my two giant papers that are due on the 11th. So yeah, sorry.

11-3-2941, Erebor

There was no sun in his face as Fíli woke up. His head pulsed, a familiar feeling if he had been out drinking with his elder cousins but he couldn’t remember doing that last night. Did he have an accident in the forge or while sparring with Kíli? Maybe they did go out for drinks and he just was too far gone to remember it. _Oh Mahal’s beard, what mischief did we get up to last night?_

A grumble escaped his mouth as he brought a hand up to rub at his aching forehead and scrub the sleep from his eyes. Going to heave himself out of bed, he put his hand down on the bed beside him only to touch another arm. _That doesn’t feel like Kíli._ He turned to his right and saw a woman laying beside him, not long removed from battle if her discarded armor beside the bed was to be believed and the bandages covering wounds across her skin, sound asleep. He didn’t recognize her, but he must have been laid by her for some reason. He looked down at his own clothes, the light under armor unfamiliar to him. His eyes drifted to a discarded heavier armor beside his side of the bed. He had been in the battle as well. Was he still in the Blue Mountains? A glance about the unfamiliar room and quick sensing of the unfamiliar rock around him spoke differently.

“What in the name of Mahal happened?” Better yet, how much trouble was he in?

The door opened to reveal his little brother. Kíli appeared a little worse for wear, a few bandages visible but bright eyed and smiling. His clothes were different, an older style favored by the dwarrows of Erebor in the days before the worm.

What startled Fíli more than his brother’s appearance was that of a redheaded she-elf following him into the room. She carried a steaming bowl in her hands, a basket holding rags and bandages swinging from her arm.

“Morning Fíli! How’s your head? Feeling better?” Kíli jumped onto the edge of the bed, leaning against the post there and pulling a roll from his pocket. “Tauriel said she’d take a look it was still bothering you. I know you fell asleep quite fast last night.”

“Tauriel?” The question in his tone stopped his brother’s cheerful mood. Fíli scrunched up his face, rubbing aggressively at his forehead as if it would clear things up. “Kíli, where are we? What happened?”

“Ah right, bit of a rush last night with bringing the wounded in an all. Dwalin says this was Uncle Frerin’s room way back when. Uncle Thorin is his old room with Uncle Bilbo.”

“Frerin’s room? Uncle Bilbo? Kee you’re not making any sense.” Kíli looked over to Tauriel who put her things down and approached the dwarf prince with caution.

“Prince Fíli, what season is it?” she inquired.

“Spring.” Kíli swallowed and stood up from the bed. His hand was beginning to shake. Fíli sat straight and reached for his brother. Kíli took his hand, squeezing it gentle. “Kíli?”

“It’s past Durin’s Day, Nadad. I will go get Lord Elrond. I think you hit your head harder than you thought.” Kíli squeezed his hand again and released it. “This is Tauriel, a friend of ours. She can be trusted. We’ve made friends with some of the elves. She’ll stay with you while I find help.” Kíli gave his brother a quick hug before scurrying from the room.

Tauriel brought him a cup of water, placed on the table beside him, before moving to the other side of the bed where the woman lay. There was a larger table on that side, one large enough for the bandages, rags, and bowl to be laid out. The elf peeled back the covers and addressed the bandages covering the unconscious woman.

Fíli swallowed, a pit forming in his stomach as he looked the woman over, before asking, “Who is she?”

“Your wife.”

“Wife?!” A smile crossed Tauriel’s face as Fíli jerked back and nearly fell off the bed. “Surely I did not lose enough time to have a proper courting period and to marry.”

Tauriel moved the edge of Freye’s shirt and Fíli turned away with flaming red cheeks. “She wouldn’t mind,” Tauriel reassured. “You helped me with her wounds plenty in Esgaroth. As for your marriage, according to Prince Consort Baggins and Lord Balin, you rushed a bit due to the circumstances of your quest, as did King Thorin and Prince Consort Baggins.”

“I barely tolerate lord, Tauriel, do not call me Prince Consort unless we’re in some stuffy ceremony,” said a short man with no beard as he walked into the room. “Kíli seems to have alerted nearly half the mountain with his shouts after he burst into Thorin’s chambers. Lord Elrond will be here momentarily; he is still seeing to Thorin’s wounds. I came to check on you both so I can report to Thorin after. Elrond won’t let him out of bed for at least a week. How is Freye?”

“She seems to be resting easily,” Tauriel answered. “I can still feel the drain of the spell. She has overtaxed herself.”

Fíli looked back to the dark haired woman beside him. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, even if she didn’t have a beard. And she was his wife? _Mahal be blessed! What did I do to deserve such an angel?_

“Good, good. Right then, Fíli, time to strip.” The dwarven prince snapped his attention to the creature before him. “You clearly forgot the severity of your injuries if it led to this. Off with the rest or I’ll have Óin do it for me.” Somehow, like a muscle memory, Fíli knew this short creature would do just that and he feared the actions of both him and Óin. He wisely stripped off the last layers of his clothes. The hair band, metal and leather, that had been keeping his braids back, he gently placed between he and Freye. Bilbo offered to put it up but Fíli refused. He could feel its importance to him.

Bilbo had cleaned and bandaged several cuts on Fíli’s legs and arms by the time another elf walked into the room followed shortly by Óin and Kíli.

“You should be right grateful Thorin can’t get to you, lad,” Óin declared. “He’s ready to jump out of bed over this. It’s taking Dwalin and Balin to keep him in place.”

“Sorry?”

“You’re also damned lucky Freye’s not awake to kick your ass either,” the healer promised. “You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t do it anyway when she does wake up. Now, let’s see that head of yours. Lord Elrond I believe your talents would be most useful.”

The elf lord gave a twitch of a smile before examining the dwarf’s head thoroughly while Óin moved hair out of the way and checked for any other wounds on his scalp. The two healers stepped away to talk before addressing the prince.

Elrond said, “I do not think it’s permanent. It seems you are just rattled from yesterday’s events. You should start remembering slowly. Until then, do not leave this room without escort. Erebor is a dangerous place for those who remember how to walk her grounds. Ones that have forgotten, well we shall not see further injury to the royal line. As it is, young Prince Kíli is the only one of you up and about.”

“If it wasn’t for Balin and Dáin I would feign sickness and stay in bed. I don’t think King Thranduil likes me much,” Kíli commented. Tauriel hid a smile behind her hair at that.

“You’re not getting out of dealing with him,” Bilbo promised. “Take Tauriel with you and see to the provisions. I have to talk with Thranduil and Dáin about incoming supplies. I’ll see to it that Sigrid is sent up. She can sit with Fíli and Freye. She should have Kund with her.” A thought occurred to him. Bilbo turned to his eldest nephew and said, “You have a warg, by the way. You and Freye adopted it during our journey. He’s quite friendly. We couldn’t let him sleep here last night, he would have wanted to curl up on the bed. After you’ve eaten, you can see Thorin. I’ll have one of the Company, most likely Dwalin, take you to see him.”

“Thank you, uh, sir.”

“I’m not a sir. Bilbo or Uncle Bilbo to you.” Bilbo wagged a finger at him before walking out with Kíli and Tauriel in tow.

Fíli settled his back, once he had put some clothes clean clothes on, against the headboard. He watched as Óin and Elrond checked Freye’s injuries, mostly for infections or complications, before Elrond left to ten to the other injured. Óin turned back to his younger cousin with a gruff expression on his face.

“Lot to take in, lad, but we can’t give it to you slow. The battle was only yesterday. As it is, I shouldn’t be lingering with the other injured needing tending to but there should be enough elves around to do the job and the Men of Dale are doing a fine job filling in.”

“What battle Óin?”

“They’re calling it the Battle of Five Armies. We’re in Erebor, lad. The Company, Dáin’s army, Thranduil’s army, Bard’s army, and a few of our allies, against the forces of Gundabad and Dol Guldur. We won but it was a hard win.”

“Who is Bard?”

“Leader of Dale, formerly of Esgaroth. Lake-town burned due to the dragon. Sigrid, the lass Bilbo is sending for, is one of his two daughters. She’s been seeing to the injured. Learned a lot from Lady Arwen and Captain Tauriel while we stayed with Bard.” Óin looked at Freye, the sheen of sweat on her brow, and wiped it and her hair away from her eyes with the back of his hand. “You two had quite the day. Thought we were going to lose you both.”

“I’m barely injured,” Fíli protested.

“Aye, thanks to her and Tauriel. She shot Azog while Tauriel caught you when you fell from the tower. He was about to kill you Fíli.” The dwarven prince turned his attention back to the woman again. There was a knock on the door followed by the entrance of a small child and a young woman. Fíli was stunned when the younger one sprinted over and hugged him tight.

“Tilda he doesn’t remember you.”

“Oh, right, sorry Prince Fíli. I was just glad to see you okay.”

“Just Fíli is fine.” She gave him a smile before running over to Freye’s side. She frowned at the stillness in the older woman’s form.

“I’m Sigrid and that is Tilda,” the woman explained. Óin waved at her before he left the room. A warg muscled his way in and took to lying at the foot of the bed, snorting as he drifted off to sleep.

“And that is Freye,” he confirmed for himself with a motion of his hand. Tilda bobbed her head up and down quickly. “What do you know of her?”

“She’s cousins with Mister Bilbo!” Tilda announced. The child walked down to where the warg laid and settled down inside its curlde up form.

“What exactly is he?”

“A Hobbit,” Sigrid answered, “from the Shire. From what I know, and this is mostly through stories you, your brother, Freye, and Óin shared at our house, your company showed up on his doorstep with barely a warning and talk of a quest. Apparently, Freye had some knowledge of the quest, an argument between Gandalf and her grandmother if I remember right. Seems Freye is part Hobbit part Dwarf, mostly Dwarf though.”

“Only dwarrow line that I know of with hobbit blood is of Brynye Took.”

“Her name is Freye Took,” Sigrid answered and motioned to the woman. “According to your brother, it was love at first sight and it just escalated during the quest.”

“Our wedding?”

“Two nights ago. Thorin decided that if anything happened, both Freye and Bilbo should be recognized as spouses to the prince and king. It was a lovely ceremony, done in an old hobbit tradition. Thorin said you will be having a dwarven one too.”

Fíli turned to look at the lass beside him again. He could hardly believe she was his. He just hoped his memories returned swiftly.

  


The redheaded elf--Tauriel, Sigrid called her--came into the room after lunch had been served and it neared supper.

"Lord Baggins is waiting outside for you," Tauriel informed Fíli. "Your uncle wishes to see you. Lady Sigrid, Miss Tilda, your father is looking for you. I will see to Lady Freye while you are gone." Sigrid thanked her while Tilda hugged Fíli and squeezed Freye's hand goodbye before following her sister out of the room. Kund stretched and let out a huff before following the pair. He'd find supper before returning.

"If she wakes," Fíli began to say.

"I will alert you immediately," Tauriel reassured. "Your memories, have they begun to return?"

"It's still blank but I feel..." He looked back to the bed. He had taken care earlier, while Tilda and Sigrid had gone to fetch lunch, to wash Freye's hair, comb it, and braid it once more. He also put a few larger braid in to pull her hair off her shoulders and out of the ways of the healers. A spot in his chest ached at the sight of her. "I cannot describe how I feel."

"I have heard you speak it before," Tauriel reassured. "Go. Your brother should be fetching dinner for you all."

Bilbo was indeed waiting. He showed Fíli to Thorin's room before going to help Kíli with bringing dinner up. Fíli took a deep breath before knocking. Thorin's soft command urged him in. He slipped inside and walked to his uncle's side.

"Fíli it does me good to see you awake," Thorin said. He was propped up on the bed by stiff blankets and pillows. He winced as he shifted slightly and patted the open bedside. Fíli sat down beside him and found his fingers tangling in the sheets. "How do you fair?"

"I'm sure Bilbo has told you."

"Aye, he has, but I want to hear it in your own words. Irakdashat, I worry for you."

"For good reason." Fíli ducked his head down as he played with the sheet.

"What is the last thing you remember? The last big event?"

Fíli thought about that hard. He could remember sparring with Kíli what felt like yesterday, a meeting with the ruling council, both his mother and Balin aiding him in calming the restless buggers, and he remembered getting a raven from Bree.

"You were returning from looking for Sigin'adad. You had stopped off in Bree to see Brynye Took and her granddaughter. Brynye happened to have a raven staying with her that night. It returned three days ahead of you. I had just read it with Amad."

"Then all is not as bad as you have likely perceived," Thorin reassured. "Kíli didn't know what spring you remembered. That happened this year, a month before you met Freye. You will regain those memories, I know you will."

"What if she wakes and I still do not know her?"

The sentence was out before he could stop himself. Thorin frowned and reached for his nephew's hand. Fíli squeezed his uncle's hand and looked up at him. There were unshed tears in his eyes.

"Fíli is that what you worry about?"

"I would not be her husband, the one she loves. I look at her and my heart beats faster, the ache in my chest lessens. What if I can't remember, Uncle?"

Thorin pulled his nephew into him, careful of where the young prince landed, and wrapped arms around him. Fíli curled up against him like he had as a youth. The patient uncle waited until the silent shaking of his nephew's form had ceased before pushing him back enough to look in his eyes.

"Freye will love you with your memories or without them. She fell for you quickly Fíli, just as quickly as you fell for her. Yours is a love built on friendship and trust. If you have not mended before she wakes, then she will loyally stay by your side until you are. She loves you more than words describe."

"How do you know?"

"The battle yesterday, I was forced to separate you two for a time, she in the main battle while we were on Ravenhill. She caught word, likely Balin or Gandalf, and abandoned the main fight for the, arguably, greater danger on Ravenhill with the northern army approaching. She had Kund for a steed, Tauriel riding with her, and she picked up Bilbo on the way, sending him to warn Dwain and me.

"As you dangled over the edge of the tower, I was powerless to save you. Tauriel and Freye raced across the river, Freye dismounting to shoot Azog before he could kill you. The sword you finished the battle with was hers, given to you as you had lost your own. You fought back to back near Tauriel and Kíli, they told me everything. Her leg, she injured it shielding you from an orc's club. You two are inseparable. Early in the quest, before you even knew each other proper, you were always side by side. Your love will triumph, I have no doubt."

"Did I at least court her somewhat properly?"

"Aye you did. You made a hairpiece for her grandmother. For her gift, this hairpiece." Thorin touched the band that Fíli had put back in his hair after Elrond had taken a look that morning. "She gave that to you before the battle as a promise to return. She loves this band, the arrowheads it conceals, the flowers you put on it. To her, it seemed better than any bead. And she courted your properly in turn. See that small blade there?" Thorin pointed to the sheath that laid on his bedside table. Fíli reached over and took it up. He pulled the blade out and read the inscription.

_My nu'adad you will be my uncle. My life is his in this life and the next. I break my vow, this shall cut my ties to him._

"Nu'adad? You're her nu'adad?" Fíli asked. 

"Aye. I visited shortly after her birth to give her a blessing and a gift. Your necklace, the one I made for your birth, do you still have it?" Fíli pulled it out. "It's identical. I thought it fitting for her as well as you. She did not reveal I am her nu'adad for most of the trip, there still may be those among the Company that do not know. She didn't want them to think less of her because of it." 

"Did I know?" 

"She told you. You grew curious after my behavior when she was injured. This was the family gift she gave me. A promise of her eternal love for you."

"And my gift?" 

"I have them." Fíli turned to see Kíli and Bilbo walking in. Kíli set the trays he carried down on the bedside medical table and pulled a pair of hidden sheathes from behind his back. "The original sheathes were destroyed. They were too covered in blood to salvage, fell apart in my hands. I made these sheathes last night. I meant to return them to you this morning. I did not wish for them to be swept away with the other weapons to be put back in the armory." 

Fíli pulled the knives out and ran his fingers over the runes on the blades. His emotions bubbled up again. Flashes of a late evening, lips covering his, fingers in his hair. It was right there and then if faded away. Kíli wrapped his brother in his arms tightly. He had not seen Fíli like this in a long time, a very long time, since he had come of apprenticing age and their mother had handed him their father's sword to train with properly. 

Bilbo took Thorin's hand in his. They would get the boys through it, they had to. 


	2. 11-6-2941, Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli gets to hear stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost just crammed the next few into one since they're so short, but I decided against it. So, a small influx. I probably won't update over the week after the next couple of chapters. I have two giant papers to write and I just remembered a vocab test in Spanish tomorrow. Yay...

11-6-2941, Erebor

Bifur was his company for today, Fíli realized after Tauriel's morning checkup. The dwarf, who no longer had an axe in his head, sat whittling something beside the chamber fire. He looked exhausted but was wearing cleaner clothes than the battle-worn Dáin that had stopped in to see Fíli yesterday. His elder cousin had evidently led a group of his war rams against a straggling group of orcs headed north. 

"Hello Bifur." 

"Fíli. Anything you need?" 

Fíli realized the dwarf wasn't speaking Khuzdul. He couldn't remember the last time he had heard Bifur speak Westron. 

"No one told you?" Fíli shook his head. "Easy to forget about I suppose. Got the axe removed in Rivendell. Between the elves, Freye, and Óin, the scarring is minimal and I can talk normally again." 

"Freye helped?" 

"Oh aye, she's a healer too. She learned some of that hobbit magic and then a bit of elven when we were in Rivendell and Óin has been teaching her dwarven for most of the trip now. According to Thorin's rant the other morning, she wouldn't be in the state she is if she had kept her magic to herself. She used it on him while she was injured, made her worse." 

"W-Why would she do that?" 

"Because she loves your family dearly. Some of the fiercest loyalty I've ever seen," Bifur told him. "Course she does that for an y family she's in. Wish you could remember the party we had when we realized she was our long lost cousin's grandchild." Fíli took a minute to put it together before looking back at Bifur. 

"She's related to you?" 

"Yep. Brynye, her grandmother, is the only child of my eldest uncle. According to Da's description of my uncle and his wife, Freye takes a good bit after her great-grandmother. Found out because of her sword." Fíli looked at the blade that rested a few feet away. There was a family crest on it. 

"Can you tell me about her?" 

"What about?" 

"What's your best memory of her?" 

Bifur had to think long and hard about that before he gave a soft smile. "Any time she sung," Bifur answered. "Got her to sing while we were at Beorn's house. After that, you got her to sing so many times. Bofur and I'd play a tune and she's be smiling as she was singing. Knew mostly hobbit songs but she's got a few dwarven ones in her, and a few others that are across the races." 

"What was her favorite song? Did she have one?" 

"Couldn't tell you if she did, but there was this one song. You started humming it one day and she said she knew the tune. Comes from a traveling group of merchants according to her." 

"Do you remember it?" 

Bifur thought hard about it before he started whistling, soft and easy. Fíli remembered the tune quick enough and hummed it under his breath. 

"You started singing it and she just joined in at the right time. It was beautiful. You sang it the night you were married, after the ceremony."

Bifur sat with him for a few hours, telling Fíli about the songs Freye had sung or anything he could remember that was particularly special that he remembered. Fíli thanked him for the stories before he left. 


	3. 11-9-2941

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An elf runs his mouth. Elladan loses his temper.

11-9-2941, Erebor

Elladan carried warm ale for the dwarrows and elves on guard duty on the battlements. Arwen was among them, watching the horizon as she had taken to doing in the past few nights, as were Elrohir and Tauriel. The redheaded elf would just be finishing her shift, having taken over for a few guards so they could eat supper.

"-a traitor is what she is. No good traitor. She went against the king!" Elladan paused before he could round the corner completely. He could see Tauriel and his sister standing further down the battlement, talking with ease, and Elrohir offering them both blankets. They both took them, the chill getting to their bones. The person speaking was an elf, one of Thranduil's lot. "She shouldn't be here. He banished her. She should have been killed for remaining."

"He rescinded it."

"Bah! You can't honestly think he meant it. She betrayed the crown."

"She was allied with Prince Legolas."

"Who is only safe because he's Thranduil's only living heir. I say someone should take care of her before she causes trouble again. Better off dead."

Elladan had heard enough. He rounded the corner, handed the ales to the guard who was halfway defending Tauriel, and punched the offending elf in the face.

"Elladan!"

"Stay out of this!" he shouted back at Elrohir. He grabbed the elf by the back of his shirt, spun him around, and slammed him head first into the stone wall before dragging him back and pushing him up against the battlement's edge, pushing him over the open air.

"Would you care to repeat what you said again? To besmirch the honor of an elf worth hundreds of you? To threaten her life again?"

"Brother." It was Arwen, her hand on his shoulder. "Brother what has he done?"

"He was speaking against Lady Tauriel, worse he threatened her life. Tauriel has been pardoned of the perceived wrongs she had committed. Beyond that, she never deserved the slander on her character in the first place. So, elf, would you care to repeat your horrid statement again or should I just toss you off the battlement now?"

"Elladan." The elf turned his head to see both Thranduil and Elrond standing there with Galadriel trailing behind them. "My son let him go."

"Not until you promise he will be expelled from Erebor and punished for threatening a hero of the battle and certainly of the aftermath. I will not let him speak against Tauriel again."

"Quite right," Thranduil agreed. "You are dismissed, Captain, though you will only be a captain for a short time longer. Join the patrols on the elven road, now. You have two hours to be out of the mountain, any longer and I will let Lord Elladan at you myself. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes sir." Elladan released the elf and stepped away. The soon-to-be-former captain glared at the other elf before shoving off the wall and heading for the door. Under his breath he cursed the ears of Rivendell princes.

A scabbard covered blade slammed into his face before anyone could move. Dwalin, surprisingly, was the dwarf that came out of the shadows. He handed the sword back to Kíli who walked over the elf to Tauriel's side.

"Sorry about that Your Highness," Dwalin said in his lovable drawl, "my hand slipped."

"Quite all right Master Dwarf. Good aim for such an accident," Thranduil remarked before walking away.

That elf was not the first to be hit in the following days, most of them were just hit in darkened hallways and left tied up to be found later when some soul would wander by. It became a fitting punishment, the humiliation enough to stop many a tongue.


	4. 11-14-2941; Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli hears more stories.

11-14-2941, Erebor

Fíli helped Tauriel lay Freye back down on the bed. They had given her a sponge bath and washed her hair again. The elf took her leave before before he could start braiding her hair again. Bilbo walked in as he was working and offered an extra set of hands. 

"Feeling better?" Bilbo asked. 

"A bit. Working with Freye makes things easier. I'm getting pieces back. Like the dinner in Bag End. I woke up remembering it. Kíli confirmed what I remembered." 

"Good, good. You'll be whole in no time Fíli. How is Freye?" 

"Tauriel says she's regaining energy now and that her flesh wounds are nearly healed. It's the broken bone that lingers." 

"And for quite some time according to Lord Elrond. Do you mind if I sit with you? Your brother and Thorin are talking with Dáin and the other leaders in his room. Rather tired of the arguing." 

"Feel free." Bilbo took his place beside the fireplace and melted into it. "Bilbo?" 

"Yes lad?" 

"Can you tell me about Freye?" 

"Second time you've asked me that," Bilbo chuckled. "How about a favorite memory? Heard you've been picking at everyone else for those." Fíli gave him a smile and settled in for the story. 

"Now this comes before you knew her. I was a wee little faunt, barely above my mother's knee. My grandfather had this party every year, his birthday party, and he'd invited Gandalf to displa y some fireworks. According to my mother, I hit Gandalf with a wooden sword before running off. 

"I came across this older faunt. She was using a stick to fence with an apple tree, slashing to break the ripe apples off the branches and into hands of waiting faunts. Pestered her for a while to teach me how to hold a sword. She introduced herself and started showing me the right way to do it. Her parents were watching us, her mother laughing as I remember it. 

"Then I tripped. Skinned my knee. I'm not ashamed to admit it, but I cried as young as I was. Didn't stop until she picked me up and started singing to me. When Mom found me, I was nearly asleep on her shoulder. So Freye took me to bed, but I wouldn't let her leave. Held her braid to keep her there. It was like having a big sister. She told me a story about a foolish hobbit that had gone far from home only to run into her cousin. Suppose that's my favorite memory." 

"I didn't realize you were so close in age." 

"She's only a quarter hobbit. She ages more like a dwarf but she matured a bit younger. You two nearly had a fight over that once."

"I've never heard anyone mention her parents much. What happened to them?" 

Bilbo looked down at his hands before getting up. He poured a glass of water for himself and one for Fíli. Bilbo then sat down on the bed in front of Fíli's legs. 

"Freye was about forty-six, just six year s shy of her majority in Brynye's eyes, when a letter came from Ered Luin. I happened to be visiting. Freye was working on her apprenticeship under her grandmother at the time and learning tricks her parents had picked up over the years. Way I remember it, the letter was from one of the Lords of Thorin's Halls. No one told me who.

"Frye and Asta left the next morning. Frye would go in the place of a blacksmith that had been meant to bargain for some valuable metal and to do some specialized work in the White Mountains. Asta went as a guard, one of theirs had been injured in a bar brawl, evidently quite badly. 

"Months went by. I had returned home. Freye sent letters on where they were, what they were doing, copies of the pictures her father made in his letters. Until the letters stopped. Few weeks later, a dwarf rode into Bree. He delivered a pouch with beads and a letter of sincerest apologies. I never knew what happened, not until recently. 

"Brynye was telling the story to the Company in Rivendell. Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur wanted to know how they had lost their cousin. Brynye couldn't speak. Surprisingly, it was Glóin that took up the tale. He had been leading the caravan as the banker. They'd been laid siege upon as they had prepared to leave the White Mountains and return home. A group of dishonored, wicked dwarrows had attacked them. Of the thirty making up the caravan, they had lost seven dwarrows. All were buried in the White Mountains, too far for the trip home. Glóin carried the beads to Ered Luin, to Thorin. Thorin gave them to Dwalin who took the news to Brynye." 

"The wicked?" 

"Way Glóin tells it, none of them lived to see the next sunrise," Bilbo informed him. Fíli looked over at Freye, pushed a loose hair out of her face, and then back at Bilbo. "I don't think she'd heard the full story until that night either. You sat with her for a while after that." 

"Thank you for telling me." Bilbo gave him a smile and patted his hand. The bedroom door opened. Evidently it was Balin's turn for dwarf sitting. 

Fíli had settled back against the headboard again. Kíli had promised to bring him reports on the events in the mountain that night, which meant he would be bored for several hours. He'd take a book at this point if just to keep from counting the gems in the ceiling styled to look like the night sky. He glanced over at Balin, the councilor puffing away on his pipe by the fire. He was wearing a different shirt than Fíli could remember him wearing the past few days. There was embroidery on the chest of it. Fíli looked down to see similar embroidery around a tear in his shirt.

"Balin?"

"Yes laddie?"

"The embroidery, what does it mean?" Fíli motioned to his shirt and then Balin's shirt. The stitching was identical it seemed.

"Forgot I had worn this shirt. Finally fished it out of my pack. They're in the language of the Hobbits, an old secret language perhaps guarded better than ours." Balin put out his pipe and walked over. "These ones here are for protection. You've got them as well." Balin touched each mark as he spoke. "This one is a declaration of love and the name of the lady that put that declaration in. You'll see yours is a bit different. Then this one is a oath to come back safe to her and to home. Then this line is about engagement. Where we differ, is you have the marriage vow on your shirt." He touched the line of runes running across Fíli's collar. "Freye put those in the night you wed. You changed shirts so they wouldn't get bloody. You've said that it is your lucky shirt."

"You have the love of a hobbit."

"No, but I do of a dwarf raised by one." Fíli quirked an eyebrow before looking at Freye and then back. "Brynye is my One. I've known for years, just never spoke a word. She's blessed with two Ones, one in a hobbit and one in this silly old dwarf."

"But you never married her?"

"No, but I intend to still. You see Fíli, when I first met her, we were terribly young. Only a few years since the fall of Erebor actually. I knew then something had drawn me to her. I wrote letters, visited a few times, but she had too much of the Shire in her to leave. I promised myself to wait, to be happy with knowing she was safe and happy there. Then the marriage announcement came."

Balin seemed to drift off in thought for a moment. He shook himself out of it soon enough, patting Freye's leg. "I almost didn't go, but she asked me to be there as the dwarven witness. She knew my feelings, I think she shared some of them, but I knew she wasn't ready for the life of a lost dwarf of Erebor. So, with Dwalin, Dís, and your father at my side, I went to the wedding. You should have seen her pick on Dwalin for his mohawk, and how he crumbled to her affections when she brought out those cookies he loves so much.

"Then I met Wystan, her betrothed. We had arrived a day early and stayed the night with them, helping them pack to move to Bree. Wystan asked if I would accompany him for a smoke. We sat outside quietly for a while before he asked for my blessing. He could tell by Brynye's words that she had feelings. He had asked and had gotten the truth. Wystan understood. I understood, gave him my blessing.

"And then, by Mahal's beard, he did the oddest thing. He made me promise to look out for Brynye when he was gone. He knew he wouldn't live her whole life and wanted her safe. He said, 'Balin, I know you love her. Yavanna knows she loves you like she does me. So that's why I ask you, man to man, to love her when I'm gone. I'll be in the grave before any children we have are matured. I know it. So I ask you, love her and any children we might have as your own when that day comes. Help her live. Be her husband and the father of her children when it comes time. And, Yavanna forbid, if we both perish and there are children left behind, raise them as your own, as if they were your children with her. I know no one better to entrust this task to.'"

"Did you accept?"

"Aye, I did. I lived to that promise poorly though. After Wystan and their daughter Freye's death, Brynye was closed off for a time. She spoke to Dís, to Frye, but rarely to any other. I stepped in for Frye, saw to it that he got his education and apprenticeships. He trained with Dwalin for a time and learned metal working from Thorin until Brynye had come out of mourning. I gave her the best support I could, but she wasn't ready for a husband. Then, well then she had to leave and help Frye and Asta with Freye. We wrote each other, have kept tabs for years. I've waited for her to give me the signal. It was on this very trip she did. You don't remember, but she accompanied Freye as far as Rivendell. After the fight with the trolls, she let me hold her in my arms as I had wished for decades to do. We officially started courting while in Rivendell. She's the love of my life. I look forward to her arrival here. Married under the mountain I was born in, Mahal has truly blessed our line once more."

"Thanks for telling me Balin."

"Not a problem laddie. Now, you look tired. Perhaps a nap for you? According to your brother, you haven't been sleeping well."

"Tattle-tale."

"He's just worried laddie. Rest a while, I'll keep watch."

Fíli found he could actually sleep, curled up beside Freye as he was, at least for a time.


	5. 11-19-2941; Erebor

11-19-2941, Erebor

His memories had slowly trickled back. He could remember some of the larger events of the quest easily now, like the Trollshaws incident. Still, most of the time he was left with more questions than answers. Even listening to the Company didn't bring things back in line. He spent hours watching over Freye, wondering if she was awake, if he would have regained his memories already.

He had taken a walk over to Thorin's room, checked on his uncle who was finally up and walking for long periods of time, before coming back to his chambers with Freye. Tauriel left him to watch her, a promise to send someone with food before she ducked out.

He went over to where he had put the courting gift he had made. His fingers traced over the flowers--"Gloxinia and primrose. She'll know what they mean."--and smiled softly. He remembered it took him forever to get the curves just right.

He remembered.

Fíli straightened his back as a tear ran down his cheek. _Mahal, he could remember._ A soft whistling escaped his lips.

"I'll swim and sail on savage sea / With never a fear of drowning / And gladly ride the waves of life / If you would marry me / No scorching sun nor freezing cold / Will stop me on my journey / If you will promise me your heart / And love..." His voice cracked as the last words came out. He turned back to the bed, sitting down beside her and taking her hand in his. "You're supposed to pick up now, love. Remember when we first sang it? Please love, wake up. I promise I will never forget you again. I don't know how I could have. Just please, please wake up."

There was a soft clearing of the throat. He turned to see Bofur standing there with food. "Remember do you?" the miner asked.

"I do. Took me long enough." Fíli leaned down to kiss her forehead. "She'll get better, right Bofur?"

"Aye, she will. Too stubborn not to. She's just tired. Long couple of months. Probably vacationing with a dream you in some secluded wood miles away from the rest of us annoying buggers."

Fíli laughed, wiping at the tears that started. "Then," he laughed again, "I'm jealous of myself for being with her. Rather she was here so we could have some of that fun together."

Bofur threw a roll at his head. Fíli just tumbled out of the bed laughing like an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, clearly I don't own that song. It's "For the Dancing and the Dreaming" from How to Train Your Dragon 2. I love the song. I know I'm not the first one to use it in this fandom, it was a soulmates fic where fem!Bilbo and Dwalin were soulmates. It's called Songless by Shadows_of_the_Invisible. So yes, I used the song here because who better to sing that song but a dwarf because there are a lot of similarities between the vikings in HTTYD and the dwarves. Anyone wants to listen to the song, here you go: https://youtu.be/sLcrxhE_xQw


	6. 11-20-2941; Slopes of Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori finally figures out where Tauriel has been sneaking off to after supper.

11-20-2941; The slopes of Erebor

Nori waited patiently for the sun to set. It had taken over a week, now that he had the time, to determine where one of the Company's favorite elves had been residing for the past few weeks. There had been an assumption that she had been staying with the Greenwood elves but they had discovered, one very late night, that she could not be found there, nor with the few Rivendell elves, or in the company of Men or Dwarrows. She had simply disappeared after supper and her last shifts at whatever task she was doing.

He had tracked her the past week after supper. The first night he lost her not far from the gates, a wandering Iron Hills dwarf with no sense of direction distracting him when the idiot had walked over Nori's head while he was ducked down between two boulders. Admittedly, the dwarf was rather drunk That hadn't stopped Dwalin from throwing him in a water barrel to sober up though.

The second night, she disappeared around a set of boulders and he couldn't find her tracks. The next night, he discovered she had climbed the other side and up the mountain she went. So, the next night, he had taken some time out of his day to climb up there himself and found several caves. He perched in the least used looking one and waited to see if she would return. That night, she did not come out of the mountain. He would learn from Dwalin that she had been called to help with an emergency, several children had taken ill suddenly and every spare hand had been needed to wash clothes, rooms, and people to prevent the spread of illness. So, tonight, he sat in the cave again, waiting while sipping an ale and munch on lembas.

She appeared silently, nothing more than a shift of rocks, and slipped into the elf sized cave protected by the pile of boulders from the worst of the mountain winds. She set up a little fire and curled up in her bedroll.

Mahal's beard, she was out here freezing when there were perfectly good beds inside she could have used. He understood why, he really did. She had been the subject or taunts by some Mirkwood elves and more than a few Iron Hills dwarrows. Mostly it was the looks her former squad members gave her, disappointment and disdain.

He waited until she was asleep before climbing down to her cave. He stoked her fire again, just a few more good sized branches and a log, and moved the whole thing to a safer distance, worried that the cave would become unstable with the heat inside. Once he was certain of her safety, he slipped out. One of his network approached as he descended the boulders.

"Keep an eye out for trouble from others and make sure her fire stays warm. I'll talk with Thorin to see that she gets a bed inside tomorrow."

"Of course Lord Nori."

"Mirot you don't have to call me that. We've known each other for years."

"Aye, I know, but it's still funny to see the great master thief now Lord Spymaster and engaged to the dwarf that's chased him across the Blue Mountains and back." For that, Nori pushed his friend into a shallow snowbank.


	7. 11-21-2941, Erebor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise two things:  
> 1) The next chapter is not nearly as long as this one  
> 2) I will update over the next month more often. Finals are done and now I just have to finish renovating a house and moving into it. Nights should be open for writing though.

11-21-2941, Erebor

Now that Thorin was back on his feet after three weeks of recovery, he was finally able to hold meetings with the leaders of the other peoples somewhere other than his bedroom. There were still a considerable amount of elves in Erebor, far more than Dáin's liking but Thorin had told him to suck it up. Some were there as escorts for Thranduil, others were healers and helped tend to the wounded that still recovered, and more were helping Dáin's men guard the gates along with the Men of Dale. It had come as an advantage to have them, the elves readily joining the dwarrows in fighting back against orcs that still lingered in the area. Some of the elves had even taken to joining the working forces who cleared out, rebuilt, and prepared rooms for the Men of Dale and the families coming from the Iron Hills to join those in Dáin's army that preferred to stay in Erebor.

Dáin's men were everywhere in the mountain, helping with construction and preparing the mountain. They had gotten the furnaces up and running and shifts of dwarrows to heat them. It had taken a few days to reinforce and clean the old heat pipes and a few more to divert the air to new pipes where others had been broken. The few mining inclined dwarrows joined Bofur and Bifur in inspecting the stonework one room at a time and instructing the following teams on how to fix the damages done. There was yet another group going inspecting the old plumbing network inch by inch. It was a slow business but it was getting there.

Deep in the mountain, a silent shifting of the guard took place. The hope and health of the mountain remained protected against those who might cause it harm.

Now, with a moment to breathe and projects running all over the mountain, Thorin took time to have a proper meeting with Thranduil and Bard. Elrond attended as well after a suggestion from Bilbo and soon Gandalf and Dáin had been roped in. Balin then dragged the reluctant Bilbo in, insisting that his levelheadedness provided a balm to the hot tempers in the room. Of course, even Bilbo's attendance could not stop all fights and it was entertaining to hear the petty arguments occurring.

"The next caravan should arrive within the week," Thranduil informed the gathering. He lounged--yes lounged, he was tired damn it--in the elf sized chair they had dug out of storage a few weeks ago. "I sent word to our farms. They are bringing stores of food and cloth. I seek no further payment for this caravan. The Gems of Lasgalen are with me, I wish no more. Further trade agreements can be done nearer to spring. Let's just concentrate on getting through the winter, all of our kingdoms."

Thorin echoed the sentiment and thanked him for his aid.

Elrond said, "My caravan is still a few weeks out. It took the safer winter road but there are still perils on that road as well. They broke a few axles."

"My son," Dáin began to say, "returned to the Iron Hills to bring supplies and able bodies. He should return by the end of the week with the first caravan."

"Then there is hope for the winter," Bard remarked. "Several of the fishermen have taken to the water again. A few of our traders will sail for other markets to see what they can muster."

"And with the Men of Dale residing in the mountain, the chances of survival increase," Thorin added. "Bard, stay through the spring at the least. Two seasons is enough time to send parties out to Dale to rebuild. Losing any of your people to the elements when there is a warm mountain to house them would be a travesty. We have the space. The first caravan from Ered Luin will not arrive until midsummer."

"Thank you. That is one less worry on my mind."

"Your coronation surely makes up the other fifty, my friend," Dáin teased. It had surprised many that the red haired dwarrow had grown fond of the Man so quickly.

"Among them yes. The half a dozen or so lads trying to court Sigrid make up several more." The fathers among them could all sympathize to that plight.

"Thorin have you thought of asking the Shire for help?" Eyes turned to Bilbo as he sipped his tea. "You already trade with them. Surely another trade agreement could be arranged. From my cousins' last letters, the winter had been mild, very mild so far. They pulled in quite the harvest this year. The surplus could easily be loaded onto the first caravan's wagons. Additionally, it might be wise to seek the aid of land healers, hobbits with the talent for the Green. Freye has relatives with such talents in other farthings. There would also likely be some hobbits that would move here for the sake of a bit of land of their own. The Shire gets often crowded. If you mentioned, well if you mentioned a certain thing to them, I'm sure you would have many a pair coming here for a chance." He shared a look with Thorin who knew of what his husband spoke.

"Mention what, Lord Baggins?" Dáin inquired.

Bilbo was saved from correcting and replying to Dáin when an energetic Kíli burst through the door to shout, "Freye's awake!" A cheer went up among them. "She hit Fíli with a book for neglecting his princely duties and being her nursemaid too. Seems memory loss isn't an excuse."

To the left of Thorin, Dáin and Balin succumbed to chuckling and watched as their king and his consort stood up.

"We should continue this later then," Gandalf prompted. No one objected and the meeting concluded. Thorin and Bilbo gave a small bow of their heads before leaving the group in a hurry. Balin and Dáin trailed behind them a few minutes in order to organize the next meeting time.

In the Crown Prince's chambers, the young dwarrowdam brought a spoonful of soup to her lips while Fíli held the bowl. She had tried to hold the bowl but her hands had shaken from the effort. Fíli promised to get her solid food soon but Beriadis, the other elf other than Tauriel that saw to her the most, told her she should ease back onto solids. When the elf's back was turned, Freye signed for Fíli to bring her something. Fíli leaned against Freye's shoulder, turning his head to give her the occasional kiss to her hair.

A commotion in the hall was all the warning they received before the doors were thrown open. Thorin came through the door with Bilbo at his side. Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur nearly tripped over each other to get through the door first. Dwalin accompanied the Brothers Ri, leaning against his axe and smiling softly. Glóin entered with tea, prompted by an elf that had come down to fetch him, with Óin following behind him. Balin trailed in with Dáin and Kíli.

"Good to see you up lass," Bofur said as he leaned against the foot board. "Gave us a right scare you did."

"Don't think I've ever seen such a group of worried dwarrows, 'cept when a dwarrowdam is giving birth," Dáin commented.

"Sorry." She blushed a little and put her spoon in her soup. Fíli put it on the side table for her.

Thorin shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed, saying, "You have nothing to be sorry for. We are just glad you are awake." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder but looked her seriously in the eye. "Never risk yourself like that for me again. I thought we had this talk at Beorn's."

"Yes, but I stand by my actions. Your life is worth more to the dwarrows of Erebor than mine."

"Not when you are my niece, the One of my heir, and a very dear family member. I would have him strong and with a wife at his side rather than to be alive and with a broken heart. I do not think I could have lived with the knowledge you gave your life for mine in such a way. Promise me, my niece, that you will not do such actions again."

"I promise, Uncle." He smiled wider and squeezed her shoulder firmly. "Do you need Fíli for anything? I should be all right on my own for a while. It is my understanding he's been neglecting his princely duties." She leveled a lighthearted glare at her husband. He just grinned sheepishly and kissed her cheek again.

"Well, I would like him for a strategy meeting, but I do not want you alone." The king looked over at his nephew who had gone from smiling to softly frowning. "However, I will not have you left alone. You are still mending and will need help. As I require the rest of the Company, I will send for one of Bard's daughters or Tauriel. She is still in the mountain, yes?" Thorin looked to his youngest sister-son. Tauriel had been disappearing at night lately and it was spotty as to where to find her during the day.

"Aye, during the day she's normally with the wounded." Kíli looked a little sad as he spoke. Freye noted the lack of a courting braid in his hair. She wondered what was going on between the two of them.

"I do not want to bother anyone, Nu'adad."

"You will not be," he reassured. "Now then, Kíli you can find one of them the best. Will you ask one of them to sit with Freye? After that, bring your brother with you to the king's study." Fíli let out a sigh but agreed to the instruction. Kíli ran off to find one of the ladies, starting with the healing halls.

Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur gave love to their cousin before leaving as well. They promised to visit again later that evening and to bring one of the few sweets the kitchen had come up with. Dáin introduced himself right proper before promising to have one of the dwarrows in the stables send Kund up. The warg, when not helping to mind the young children in the mountain, had taken to going hunting with the elves and dwarrows, typically ridden by a member of the Company or one of the elves he knew. Bilbo hugged his cousin firmly and kissed her forehead before cradling their foreheads against each other.

"Do not scare me like that again," he whispered.

"I promise to do my best, Cousin." Bilbo gave her a smile and a nod before following Thorin out. The brothers Ri gave her love as well, followed by the Sons of Fundin and the Sons of Gróin.

With them all gone, Fíli took time to help Freye finish the rest of her soup. She sighed as he put the bowl to the side, looking at her hands. She could move but her limbs were weak from weeks without proper sustenance and activity. Fíli had told her they had managed to enrich the broth they had spoon fed her and several of the elven healers had offered energy to strengthen her. Still, time without solid foods took it tolls.

"You'll mend, my One."

"In time," she agreed. He huffed a bit and kissed her on the lips proper. She smiled into the kiss, fingers pulling lightly on his braids. "Have you been planning our dwarven wedding while I slept?"

"Once I regained my memories, yes. Wanted a headstart for when Amad gets here."

"And all your memories are back?"

"Yes. It's a relief to have them back."

A knock on the door interrupted them. Fíli called for them to enter. Tauriel looked in first and then opened the door wider. Sigrid and Tilda walked in behind her with Tilda riding Kund. The warg perked up at the sight of his master and bound over to her side to lick her hand. Freye chuckled and scratched his muzzle as Tilda climbed off his back.

"We were asked to keep you company. Kíli said one of us would do but Miss Beriadis insisted we all take a break from the healing halls," Sigrid explained.

"The more the merrier," Freye reassured.

"We also thought we could help the princess take a bath. Beriadis is sending an elf with bathing supplies and several of Lord Dain's men are bringing up water for the royal baths. There was a pipe burst last night, they weren't replenished over night. There is a team working on it, the foreman said the water should restart soon."

"I would be honored if you helped me," Freye replied. "Thank you Princesses Sigrid and Tilda, Lady Tauriel." A small bow of Tauriel and Sigrid's heads made Freye nearly roll her eyes. Fíli kissed her cheek again before leaving her. Kíli's voice drifted in from the hall, laughing and poking fun at his brother. The elder of the two barked something back and Kíli sound mildly affronted at whatever was said.

Tauriel helped Freye up off the bed just as the dwarrows bearing barrels of water knocked on the door. They poured the water in the communal royal baths so the water was once again warm and at its proper level. The sound of water trickling through the pipes could also be heard. A small stream of it started out of the pipe that formed the waterfall fountain at the other end of the bath.

Tauriel, after helping Freye undress and grab a few of her things, helped lower the dwarrow into the bath.

“Join me, please. All of you.” She looked at all three. They were clean, yes, but she could tell it had been a few days. “Dwarrows are not shy with their bodies, even if hobbits are. Besides, we are all women here. Enjoy the heat and the chance to wash. I can’t imagine how the other baths have been.” Tilda looked at Sigrid who gave her a slight nod. Before the other girl could help her sister with undressing, her dress was thrown in her face and she was scurrying toward the side of the bath. Freye offered her arms to help her in, bringing her down into the water and setting her on one of the shelves. “The middle and the far end will be deep, mim ‘ibin.”

“What are you calling her?” Sigrid asked. “You used it in Laketown as well.”

“Little gem,” Freye answered, “for her youthful radiance.” Tilda giggled before pushing off the edge of the bath and swimming across to the deeper water. A heavier flow of water came from the waterfall. Tilda sputtered as she slid under it but smiled brightly at her sister when she emerged from the water.

Tauriel placed a tray of hair care items near Freye before beginning to undress herself. Sigrid undressed as well, slipping into the heat and sinking down to her chin quickly. She ducked under the surface, scratching at her scalp as she slowly unraveled her hair. Tauriel did the same, settling down on one of the benches and working on her braids.

“Why do dwarrows have communal baths?” Sigrid asked. “We’ve divided the ones in the lower halls for use mostly. It isn’t common to bathe together with Men.”

“Family and community is important to dwarrows,” Freye replied. “Communal homes are not uncommon, generations under one roof. It’s more efficient to share the water and bathe together. If there is one thing dwarrows excel at besides metal working, it’s plumbing. On the road, it’s safer to bathe in numbers. Often half a group will bathe while the others stand guard. Generally, however, communal baths are shared between family or close friends. The Company has shared baths along the road and even Bilbo joined us. I consider you all close enough friends to share a bath with, especially you mim ‘ibin.” Freye ruffled Tilda’s hair and the little girl laughed.

“Thank you for the honor, Princess Freye,” Tauriel said.

“Just Freye, please. I think we shall be as good as sisters soon, Tauriel. Has Kíli begun courting you yet?”

“Uh, no. Despite what King Thorin said, I think he fears his mother’s reaction to it all.”

“You think I don’t with Fíli?” Freye countered. “She may know my grandmother but that does not mean I do not fear the woman. Grandmother told me she once threw an axe across a marketplace to cut off the hand of a Man threatening a dwarven trader. Come to think of it, I think that’s how Dís met Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur. I’ll talk with Kíli this evening, I suspect he will be by again. And what came of the banishment from the Greenwood? Arwen told me of it before the battle. Has he lifted it after seeing his own idiocy yet?”

“He has lifted it but many of the soldiers I once worked with have become averse to my presence. They shun me for my actions. The sentiments between dwarrows and elves still have far to go.”

“Not according to Master Dwalin.” Freye turned to see Tilda pop up between them all. “I heard him talking with Master Nori about troublesome elves and how a well placed scabbard could break an elf’s nose!”

“Tilda,” Sigrid admonished. “Lady Tauriel, why were you banished? You’re an honorable and helpful person. If not for you, Kíli, Freye, and Fíli could have all died.”

“Exactly for that reason,” Freye answered for the elf. “Tauriel chose dwarrows over elves. With the animosity between our peoples, that put a target on her back. She bent her instructions from Thranduil too far. By doing the right thing, she ceased being one of his mindless soldiers and instead because one of our closest allies.” Tauriel’s face said it all, not denying a word of it. “Will you stay in Erebor? Kíli mentioned you were working in the healing halls but had taken to disappearing at night. I believe he is worried about you. You were one of the first people I asked for when I woke. I consider you my friend Tauriel.” Freye reached over and offered a hand to the elf. She took it after a moment. “You have done my people a great service. I could speak to the king and get an official decree that you may reside under the mountain. Kíli would surely see that as a sign that you are safe and welcome here.”

“How does everyone else know his feelings?” Tauriel asked softly.

“He is not that dissimilar from his brother when it comes to declarations of love. Kíli fell for you in Mirkwood, just as Fíli did with me before we left Bag End at the beginning of all this. My actions in the Trollshaws, being injured as I was, made him show his cards then. Just as you did, and he, when Kíli was injured. Do you not remember the night of the orc attack in Esgaroth? Fíli and I saw it then.”

Tauriel mulled it over for a minute before asking, “Do you think your king would be agreeable to such an arrangement?”

“Tauriel, our Ones are precious. Denying a person’s One would force them into a life of suffering. Thorin would not deny you your One, especially not after everything you’ve done for us.” She patted Tauriel’s hand. “He’s seen the way you look at each other, your actions. Why do you think he declared Kíli would begin courtship after the battle?”

“I could see myself here. It would be nice to have a proper family.” The dwarrowdam grinned and squeezed the elf’s hand.

“Princess Freye?” It was little Tilda. “Could you braid my hair? Sigrid doesn’t really know how to do it. Hers always fall out.” Sigrid huffed at that.

“Of course, mim ‘ibin. Still, call me Freye, please. I knew you before that title.” The munchkin grinned back at her. “I could teach you both in fact. I have noticed your family lacks a mother. You never had someone to teach you to braid properly, right Sigrid?”

“Mum died when Tilda was born. She still did my hair.”

“The most common of female deaths among dwarrows. I sympathize. You have no other female relatives?”

“Ma and Da were both only children and lost their parents when I was just a babe.”

“Well then, in dwarven society, when a family has lost parents, someone steps in, normally another family member. Have you noticed how Thorin acts towards Fíli and Kíli? How he treats them more as his sons than his nephews?” Sigrid gave a little nod. “Their father was lost many years ago. He stepped in to help raise them, acting as a father to them. My line, until this quest, was broken. My grandmother was orphaned and no dwarrows came to claim her after my hobbit great-grandmothers took her in. She would not have known how to be a dwarrow if not for a kind one name Fothon Grubonul. He and his brothers took my grandmother and her hobbit-parents in, teaching her everything about dwarrows that they could. He taught her about braids, fighting, and how to be a smith.

“So, while I may only look a few years older than you Sigrid, I am considerably older. I am older than your father even. So, if you wish, I would gladly take on the role of family to you girls. I can teach you braiding, etiquette, whatever you wish to learn from me. I could even teach you weaponry if you so wish. Either way, I will teach you how to braid, it is just food for thought.”

“Can we Sigrid? Please?” Tilda asked excitedly.

“We’ll talk with Da.”

“He can speak with me as well if he has questions or concerns,” Freye promised. “Now, come here Tilda.” Freye dragged the little tray closer and grabbed the comb. It took time in brushing through Tilda’s hair before braiding it. Tilda sat patiently in her lap, pushing water at her sister all the while. After making several large braids, Freye brought them together to form a crown and a tail. She died it off, each of the fasteners put gently in place. She looked like a proper little princess.

Freye offered to braid Sigrid’s hair as well. The older girl drifted over. Freye styled her hair similarly but added a few silver clasps to her hair. When Sigrid tried to protest, after Tilda had mentioned them, Freye insisted they were gifts between princesses. The girl just let out a huff but let her finish.

While they were braiding, Tauriel had taken the time to wash her long locks and take out her simple elven braids. Freye offered a hand to her, an open invitation to have dwarven braids put in. Tauriel hesitated for a moment before settling in front of her. Freye made a simple circlet around the elf’s head, one that was thicker than the one she had worn previously, before creating three larger braids and braiding them together. She looked beautiful with the dwarven pattern.

“Amazing,” Sigrid said.

“She had wonderful hair. Kíli is going to be jealous I got to braid it before he did.”

Tauriel laughed softly at that before moving away to give Freye time to wash her own hair and put her braids back in. The girls helped with washing each other’s backs before drying off and redressing. Tauriel checked Freye’s leg before wrapping it and putting the brace on. Fíli had created it to replace her splint. Sigrid brought her the crutches sent up from the healing halls and walked behind her as she hobbled over to the bed, ever mindful in case Freye should fall. After they were all settled in various spots around the room, they caught up on the happenings of the mountain.

When it neared dinner, Freye sent them to eat and asked that a plate be sent back for her. Tauriel promised to come back with food and eat with her as she was not certain when Fíli would be done with his tasks for the day. Knowing that she had a good half hour to an hour alone, Freye settled in for a bit of quiet.

Of course peace never lasts. There was knock at the door. She called for them to enter and it was Thorin carrying an ornamental box under his arm. She had been sitting on the edge of the bed when he entered. She motioned to the table and used her crutches to hobble over to it. They sat together, Freye hooking her crutches on the decorative hand grasp at the top of the chair.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Fíli said you had some discomfort when you woke up.”

“Some but it is gone after a warm bath. Would you pass my thanks along to Dáin’s men? They brought up heated water since the pipes hadn’t been refilled yet.”

“Ah yes, there was a break in the line last night. Happened after a room collapsed, luckily no one was hurt.” He settled back in his chair. “You have all that you need?”

“Well enough. My caretakers were very helpful and Tauriel is going to get my supper. She advised me that trying the stairs with crutches would end with another broken limb.”

“Too true,” Thorin replied. “I saw the braids in Bard’s girls’ hair and in Tauriel’s hair. Nice design.”

“Thank you, Nu’adad. You should know that I’ve offered to mentor them in the ways of being a woman. They have none to fill that role. They lost their mother when Tilda was born and have no other female relatives.”

“As long as Bard agrees, I see no problem with it. Are you going to teach them how to fight?”

“They should know how to defend themselves at the very least. I could see Sigrid with a sword and a small dagger, Tilda with a bow and a dagger as well. When I am better I will make a few specialty pieces for them, ones women can easily hide.”

“A good idea. I will entrust you with it. Now, I do have some business with you if you do not mind. I know you’re still recovering.”

“I may be recovering but an idle mind is troublesome. I would enjoy the work.”

He chuckled as he took several papers, an ink pot, and a pen from the box. There was something else within that Freye was unable to see from her angle. “Now then, while I did proclaim you Princess of Erebor, albeit informally and with a proper ceremony to be held later on, there are two other titles I wish to bestow upon you. One you already know.” He slid one of the sheets across the table to her. “This declares you Ambassador of Erebor alongside Bilbo and Balin. You three are the most levelheaded among us and are better at dealing with difficult relations. All three of you should be considered wordsmiths of the highest caliber.”

“And silver-tongued?” she teased.

“Naturally. You and your cousin seem to have a particular knack for it.”

“I will gladly accept the task. Uh, Nu’adad, what is the date? No one bothered to tell me, just told me I was asleep for a few weeks.” He laughed warmly and told her it was the same date that was already on the paper by Bilbo and Balin’s names. After he set that document aside, he offered a second one.

“Your family and their story made me consider relations between dwarrows. A whole line of dwarrows lost to us, and if it had not been for the kind hobbits that took Brynye in and their incredible luck at running into a friendly dwarrow, she could have never found a dwarrow to instruct her in our culture. There are others, many after Smaug’s arrival, that have similar stories with not so happy endings. I will not stand for it. The lost should have a place to go, a clan to take them in and a family to go with it. I also acknowledge that Erebor will grow and other races will come to the Mountain and some may not leave. They will need people as well, someone to seek out. Balin and Bilbo agree with me that who would be better to oversee such a group than the line of Brynye, particularly the lady that made her home among a motley crew of dwarrows and fought across Middle Earth to see them safe?”

“You want me to form a clan? Take them in?”

“Yes. Others of the company are receiving lordships, those of land claims or great deeds, some regaining lordships that should have been a birthright. But they are not the ones best suited to lead a clan such as this, the Clan of the Wanderers. You would have your own steward, heirs, and other lesser lords and ladies within your clan, which I hope you will run by Balin and myself before instating. We would know of any disreputable characters that may try to take advantage of the situation. You can give them a home, Elves, Men, Dwarrows, and Hobbits alike.”

A realization came over Freye and she raised an eyebrow. “You have people in mind.”

He pulled out three smaller documents and handed them to her. She put aside the clan charter and addressed the sheets. “Bilbo, Tauriel, and your grandmother. While Kíli has not started his courtship with Tauriel, I know she does not wish to leave him. Nori was finally able to determine where she was staying, a cave on the mountainside. There have been several discussions overheard by members of the Company about her from other elves. Elladan struck a member of Thranduil’s army and nearly shoved him off the battlements. Lady Arwen barely stopped him and it took Thranduil and Elrond interfering to guarantee the relative safety of the elf.”

“Relative?”

“He said something about Elladan as he was walking away. Dwalin accidentally hit him with a scabbard.”

“Accidentally my foot,” she muttered. “Tauriel fears you do not truly accept her and that Lady Dís will not either. Despite your words, she still hesitates. I told her I would speak with you on her behalf.”

“My sister will be glad to see her son courting his One and not in a political marriage as secondary heirs are often forced to contend with. She nearly was once; I put an end to it.” Thorin shook his head as he thought about the complications of marriage and relationships as well as the predicament that Tauriel found herself in. “Prince Legolas and I have several conversations concerning Tauriel. He worries for her greatly.”

“They are like siblings, she the defiant one while he tries to listen to his father,” Freye remarked. “I accept the position and agree with your suggestions. I will talk with Tauriel upon her return; she went to get me dinner since we didn’t know when Fíli would return from his duties. I will have to ask after Bilbo.” She signed the charter. “I will need a signet ring of some sort.”

“Until you have determined the design and seen to the making of some, use this ring.” He took a ring from the box and handed it over to her. “This is the signet of the line of Durin, the princess’s signet actually. You and Dís would be the only two that could use it. You have the right to use this for personal use as well as your official diplomatic duties. As for making the other rings, Fíli should have the time. I wish for you to use this.” He took the raven crown out of the box and set it down. It had cloth wrapped around it to keep hands from touching it bare. “Gandalf inspected it. It sat in Smaug’s horde for too long. The only option is to smelt it and purify it. Whatever is left after rings and beads can be used as you or Fíli wish.”

“Thank you, Nu’adad.”

“Now, Bilbo has suggested a group of hobbits could be persuaded to move to the mountain. I request that they join your clan, the seeing after of the settlement in your hands as well.”

“I agree. It would be best if they had a familiar face or two while settling.” She looked back at Tauriel’s document, finger running down it.

“Something to add?”

“Tauriel has no family except Legolas. By remaining here, she will lose that family. From our words in Esgaroth, she was an orphan that Thranduil watched over but never adopted. I wish to give her more than just a clan to claim.”

“You would bring her into your family?” Thorin, while mildly impressed, did not seem entirely shocked at the idea.

“I believe my grandmother will understand and approve.” She fingered a bead on her necklace. “Is there a way to adopt a sibling, to make them more than just a shield brother?”

“Aye, to claim them to your family. I would speak with your cousins first. If Brynye was near I would have you speak with her as well but I do not see her disagreeing. I doubt your cousins will disagree either but family approval would be best.”

“Of course. Would you approve of my choice?”

“I will stand by you in it. Formal declarations are set to be done at the end of the week; she will have to decide by then on both. Elrond leaves the next day and I wish to have formal declarations observed before his departure. Gandalf leaves that night as well, to meet with elves from Lorien and Mirkwood at Dol Guldur. I believe Radagast is set to meet them as well. There is fear that there are still orcs there or captives.”

“I will see to it that preparations are made on my side then. Who will be your ambassador to the Shire?” Thorin hesitated to answer, eyes drifting toward the hearth fire. “You wished to send me, logical choice, but ill-advised now.”

“Elrond says you can travel by spring, but if we want the hobbits to return on the first caravan, we must send someone back now. Elrond, Thranduil, and Beorn have all promises to see to the group that goes, but you cannot go.” Thorin let out a long sigh. “The next logical choice is Bilbo.”

“Who does need to get some of things, Nu’adad, as well as deal with his affairs in the Shire. This will give him the time and the numbers to do it.” Thorin looked at her with heartache. “I know, Nu’adad, but he will return. He was not happy in the Shire, hasn’t been since his parents passed on. He is going to live here, perhaps visit some of his relatives from time to time, but he will be here by your side. He’ll certainly want the portraits of his parents and some of his books. Plus, he has more pull with the Thain than I do. Our cousin may be kind to us both but he has a soft spot for Bilbo. He doesn’t have to go alone. Kíli and Tauriel can accompany him as royal representatives of Erebor, one of Kíli’s first true challenges as prince. Tauriel can see to heading the guards that accompany them. Dáin might find a few dwarrows willing to travel with them as well as a member of the Company or two. Perhaps Bard might send Bain or some of the Men as well, an attempt to build foreign relations. Bain will be Prince of Dale soon, he should know other kingdoms and their peoples. Kíli knows enough to begin mentoring him in the job as does Tauriel.”

“You will be a good queen one day,” Thorin said. “Now then, I should go see to some dinner myself. Bilbo and I are having a small date night on one of the old terraces, afterward we'll be retiring to my study if you need him. I think your cousins were headed up here soon, something about a wedding dress. From the half argument I caught, Bofur wants Dori to make the dress. I do not envy you in their coming, Iraknâtha.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Rest well and mend. I look forward to seeing you up and around the mountain. I will have Kund saddled in the morning so that you may see more than this room.”

“I have crutches.”

“You are still weak. Also, the crutches have proven hazardous on stairs. Several dwarrows, elves, and men have ended up worse than they were because of them. Please.”

“Of course, Nu’adad.”

As it turned out, her cousins only wanted a few minutes with her before they went of to dine with Bard and his family. Bofur brought up the dressmaking ability of Dori and Freye agreed. They then turned their conversation to her health followed by Tauriel’s inclusion in the family.

“After all she’s done for the Company,” Bofur began, “she’ll be welcome. The Urs will happily take in those of other races, right Bombur?” The red haired dwarrow whacked his brother on the back of the head playfully.

“And if anyone takes issue with that, they can deal with my axe,” Bifur promised.

Bifur and Bombur left first while Bofur kept Freye company until Tauriel appeared. Bofur let her in and said goodnight to the pair. The she-elf set the food down on the table and sat in the chair opposite her.

“I apologize for the delay. There was an argument among Dáin’s men and some of the elves.”

“Over?”

“Who should rule the mountain. It did not go well.”

Freye cringed at the thought. “I would suspect not.”

“Fíli and Dáin took the dwarrows and threw them into the camps outside. Apparently they thought that since Dáin’s army provided the muscle in the Battle of the Five Armies, that Dáin should be rewarded with kingship. King Thranduil’s soldiers saw to defending the mountain until more loyal dwarrows were able to deal with the traitors. Dáin informed the lot of them that he did not want to be king and had enough trouble in the Iron Hills. Fíli promised to take their beards or their lives if they tried it again. I believe Dáin just might anyway.”

“It proved one thing though.” Tauriel quirked an eyebrow. “There is hope yet between Mirkwood and Erebor.” The elder laughed softly and poured the tea. There was a hearty soup and more lembas to eat. Someone had snuck a small piece of venison onto her place. According to Tauriel, it was Elrond. “He said you needed more protein and suspected if you were not given something more, you might convince your husband to find something that might not settle well in your stomach.”

“I must thank him then as I did tell Fíli that this morning.” They ate quietly for a time, not speaking. They had nearly finished their food when Freye cleared her throat. “I spoke with the king.” A slight glimmer of hope developed in the elf’s eyes. “He would like you to remain in Erebor. More than that, he wants you to join a new clan meant for those who have lost their families or come from other races. A member of this clan wants you to join their family as a sibling, to give you a proper family Under the Mountain.”

“Who would--?”

“I would, Tauriel.” The she-elf straightened up at those words. “Thorin has made me Lady of the Wanderers. If it were not for my grandmother’s age, I think he would have asked her first. Our clan is devoted to those who have lost their lines or have come to Erebor but are not dwarrows. We willbe the home for orphans and travelers, the home of family outcasts. I wish for you to be a lady in the clan, my right hand. I would have you as my sister as well, if you choose to accept. Your position in the mountain would not be questioned. You would have a family here. My cousins have agreed to accept you. My grandmother most certainly would agree. I do not require your answers now, but it is food for thought.”

“You offer me too much, milady.”

“I have told you I am still Freye to you. I offer you only what you deserve Tauriel. You are an amazing person; you went out of your way to help us and have been ostracized for it. It would be a great honor to count you among my family.” Tauriel looked down at the remains of her food, a little lembas, before looking up.

“I accept your offer, my sister.”

“Then come here. I need to add a new braid.” Tauriel sat down on the floor in front of her while Freye removed a bead from her necklace. She took care in removing the braids she had woven that morning and styling them again, the newest braid highlighted by the style.

“You changed the style.”

“To show your adoption. This braid,” she said and lightly pulled on it so she knew which one, “is the family braid. You’ll have to learn to braid it correctly. This bead was my aunt’s, a symbol of the sibling bond my father had for her. My father found it among her things after her death, tucked away with her traveling gear for safety. Now I use it for your hair. I will have another made, with the proper family crest, and put it with this one. Fíli will have to help me. It will be a while before I am able to stand in a forge again and I want you to have your bead sooner than that. You will also carry a signet ring. As of now, you are my heir. That may change if Fíli and I have children, but if I pass before then, I leave our clan in your hands.”

“When you have children, I would have it passed on to your second child as your first will likely be destined for kingship.”

The pair of them went over the papers, filling them out as they went. Tauriel went to find Bilbo to continue the discussion. Luckily, Bilbo was in Thorin’s study. What followed was a half hour discussion on why Bilbo should take a leading role in the clan. He was already a land titled lord thanks to his, affectionately named, Mushroom Mine. He would have enough trouble on his hands thanks to the Council of Lords he would be forced to attend, though it gave him some solace that his dear cousin also had to attend. He eventually agreed because having an elf, a hybrid, and hobbit as the united front of the clan would be better than a hybrid and an elf trying to fight old ways by themselves.

They sat down to design the seal after that, Bilbo drawing it as they threw around ideas. The outer edge of the seal was a leaf, one well known in the elven forests. Inside of the leaf was the outline of an acorn to symbolize the hobbits. For the dwarrows, a vein of mithril cut through the acorn. Near the bottom of the acorn, the vein turned into a river that followed into a lake that formed the base the acorn rested on. A small warg, barely noticeable, howled on the edge of the lake.

“I do not envy Fíli for this task,” Bilbo commented.

“My husband loves me,” Freye reasoned with a knowing smile on her face. Bilbo laughed it off. The door opened to reveal Fíli, a small tray of snacks in hand as well as a pitcher of water.

“Tauriel?” The elf turned to him. “Nori had your things brought inside the mountain. Kíli is waiting to show you to your chambers.”

“Prince Fíli.”

“Just Fíli. After all, I think we’ll be in-laws soon enough, don’t you?” Fíli teased gently. “Go on. I’ve got Freye.” Tauriel thanked him and gave Freye a hug before leaving. Bilbo hugged her as well before leaving. Kund slipped in the door as Bilbo walked out, the warg having eaten his supper in the stables. Fíli walked over and put his load down. He wrapped his arms around her from the back of the chair before kissing her ever so gently on the head. She smiled up at him, patting his cheek affectionately.

“Awake less than a day and already slaving away my love.”

“Your uncle had tasks for me and I hate being idle. As it is, I need to have a conversation with Balin tomorrow and need to get out of the room. All of this needs to be filed.” She motioned to the papers before slipping them under the box. “Do you have plans for tomorrow, love?”

“I have an early morning meeting with Legolas, Dáin, the twins, and whoever Bard sends, so most probably Sigrid. Other than that, my day is mostly to myself. Is there something you need of me?”

“Your jewelry skills actually. Thorin asked me to lead the Wanderers.”

“He had mentioned as much.”

“Tauriel, Bilbo, and I finished the clan crest design. We’ll need beads and signet rings for at least three of us, more to come later I’m sure. Thorin wants this to be smelted, purified, and used to create something good after all the evil it has created.” Freye opened the box to reveal the raven crown. “Gandalf put magic to keep its sickness at bay.”

“It will be my pleasure to do it. What of the extra?”

“Thorin said we could use the rest as we wish. I will leave that up to you. Here are the designs.” She slid the sheet toward him.

“You certainly aren’t going to make it easy for me are you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. This is just for the clan though. I will need your help to make another bead. I am adopting Tauriel as my sister. She will need a generational bead. Would you mind?”

“Not at all. Here, let me see the bead.” He sat beside her, pulling a sheet of paper in front of him, and picking up a pencil. She handed him the bead and watched him study it. After ten minutes or so, he had replicated it. He put the bead back in her braids. “Easy enough.”

“Thank you love. Oh, Thorin's having Kund’s saddle brought up in the morning."

"He does well on the stairs, it's for the best. You could go see Balin then. I put two hooks on the saddle so your crutches can be attached.”

“What in the name of Mahal did I ever do to deserve you?” she asked. “Hand me one of the rolls would you? That looks like a good snack before bed.” He handed it to her and took one for himself before picking her up and carrying her to the bed. He brought her crutches over next and put them beside the bed. He slipped under the covers, pulling her close to his chest. They curled up together, enjoying warmth and safety under the great furs of their bed. Freye noticed something odd about one of the furs, it was new and made of a warg’s pelt. “Did you get this from the battlefield?”

“Azog’s warg actually. Kund does not mind it. He’s laid beside you on it before.” The warg lifted his head at his name. He jumped up on the bed, careful of legs, and curled up in a tight ball by their feet.

“Good boy,” Freye called down to him. Freye settled her head on Fíli’s shoulder; he was tense under her. “Fee? You’re thinking too hard.”

“Sorry, just something Elrond told me.”

“What’s that?”

“It could take you up to half a year to heal, at the very minimum three months. That’s a long time for someone as active as you.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll find ways to entertain myself. I’ll be back dancing before you know it.”

“Better be.” He kissed her shoulder. “Night love. Night Kund.” The warg let out a soft bark before flopping his head over to land on Fíli’s legs. Freye laughed at his little grunt at the impact. It was nice for things to be back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, two things here:  
> 1) The Mushroom Mine is an idea I got from someone else's work. The Mushroom Mine by Chrononautical see link here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/812712. I just always liked the idea of it.  
> 2) So, the comment in here about going off to Dol Guldur. I remember reading this fic, and I have spent the last hour looking for it because now I want to read it again, where Gandalf goes to Dol Guldur after everything has calmed down a bit and finds prisoners there, dwarves among them. Among the dwarves are both Thrain and Frerin, I think there was somebody else relatively important found but I honestly can't remember who. I happen to like that little plot bunny and I have already written a draft of that chapter but I wanted to see if there were any particular requests on characters to come back from the dead. I have two in mind particularly and have hinted about the one throughout the series actually. So thoughts would be appreciated. Also, if you happen to have read the story I'm talking about and remember what it is, please let me know. I remember two scenes from it best. Thorin is standing on the wall looking out and just talking and he thinks he hears his father start talking to him and it is actually his father. Then there is another scene where Dwalin, I think, welcomes a dwarrowdam they summoned from the Ered Luin and tells her that the royal family is missing just one member, her as the wife of Frerin. Frerin looked like Fíli I think, or had blond hair at the least. It's killing me that I can't remember.
> 
> EDIT: SO! I spent like four hours going through old bookmarks and found the story I was thinking of: Getting it Right by bindajenner https://archiveofourown.org/works/9328421/chapters/21137738


	8. 11-22-2941, Erebor

11-22-2941, Erebor

The soft knocking on Balin’s office door was unexpected. He looked up from the latest provision reports and called for whomever it was to enter. He was surprised to see Kund nudge the door open with Freye riding on his back. He laid down and waited for Freye to have her crutches under her before slowly standing up and helping her get her feet under her. Once she was steady, he laid back down. Freye praised the warg before hobbling over to Balin.

“Dearie if you needed to see me you could have sent word.”

“I needed to get out of my room anyway Balin.” She sat down in front of his desk and pulled out the papers from her satchel. “Signed, dated, and sealed by all three of us.”

“Thank you lass. That makes later this week a bit easier.”

“That was the impression I received from Thorin. Before I get moving to see the rest of the mountain, do you have a moment to talk?”

“As long as you need lass. What’s on your mind?” Freye hooked her crutches on the back of the chair and settled in more comfortably.

“Fíli and I talked about our marriage ceremony this morning, the dwarven one we’re going to have.”

“Ah, I didn’t think you would start thinking about that quite yet.”

“Fíli wants to have in writing what we want before we let Dís take over as we both known she’ll want to,” Freye countered. “We talked about the walk down the aisle specifically. I have no parents to walk me down the aisle.”

“Surely your grandmother will do it.”

“I am certain of it but I have no one for my father.” She cleared her throat and looked Balin in the eye. “I know about your courtship to Sigin’amad. She told me before we left Rivendell. I would like you to walk me down the aisle with her,” Freye informed him. Balin straightened up in his seat.

“Lass, I would be honored but I am not yet married to Brynye.”

“You have loved my grandmother since before she married Wystan. Did you know he used to keep a journal? Sigin’amad let me read them. I came across an entry from around their wedding day, your promise to step in for him was there. I remember, when I was very young, I would ask Adad about living in the Blue Mountains, how he grew up. Two names other than Dís and Thorin’s came up the most, Balin and Dwalin. He told me how you sat him down for lessons, let him read texts that only the royal family should have been reading. How you sat with him for hours telling him the history of the dwarven people. He told me how, when he was forty, you and Dwalin took him out for the night to celebrate. When he thought about courting Amad, he talked with you first about how to do it proper.

“I have known for a long time how dear you are to my family and Grandfather Wystan’s journals cleared up why. If things had gone differently, you could have been my grandfather by blood as well. Balin you are my family. I have thought of you as family for a long time. This entire journey you were there to support me like a father, like a grandfather would have. I can think of no one better to walk me down the aisle.”

Balin was tearing up just a touch. He got up from his desk and walked around to hug her. She smiled as she buried her face in his shoulder. Balin’s hugs were the best next to Fíli’s tender hugs and Dwalin’s bear hugs.

“I would be honored lass. You do not know how much this means to me. I have something for you.” Balin went back around the desk and pulled a small pouch out from his desk drawer. “It’s the family gift but both Brynye and I agreed it would be better if we waited until after the marriage was official. She didn’t know how you would react.” Balin took a bead, made of silver with a few streaks of gold, out and offered it in his palm. “I would ask you to wear this, a symbol of the family I will make with her. I regret never stepping in sooner, giving you a chance for more aunts or uncles, but I will be there now.”

Freye took the bead in her hand and swallowed. The bead read, “Freye, daughter of Asta and Frye, granddaughter of Brynye, Wystan, and Balin.” Freye smiled up at him and asked him to braid it into her hair. He found a free section large enough and braided it into place. Once he was done, Freye hugged him again.

“I love you Sigin’adad.”

“And I you, Sigin-nâtha.”

They talked about her recovery for a little while as well as responsibilities that could slowly be shifted over to her once he had given her guidance on how to perform them. There was also the matter of assigning her a guard, though Dwalin claimed that task for himself. For now, as long as she was with Kund she should be fine.

“Where do you head to now?” Balin asked as he watched her mount Kund and slide her crutches in the hooks.

“Wherever I am needed. I told Bilbo I’d find him at lunch and so I shall. I’m sure he’ll have a task for me.”

“If I may, lass.” Balin went to a shelf and pulled out an old tome. “It might be best if you take a look at this. They are old maps of Erebor and the surrounding areas with notes as to the land’s compositions. If we have hobbits moving in, we’ll need to house them and the returning dwarrows.”

“I think you just found my task for the day, though I think I’ll need Bofur to help me decipher some of these marks. They look like miners’ short hand.”

“They are. Bofur takes his lunch at the same time as Bilbo, often sits with him.”

“Thanks Balin. We’re having a Company dinner tonight, yes?”

“Indeed, with some added guests.”

“Sounds perfect. I will see you then.”

The smile didn’t fade from Balin’s face for several hours. He had a granddaughter. The only thing that dropped the smile was the thought that if he had acted a little sooner, he might have gained a granddaughter far sooner.


	9. 11-28-2941, Erebor

11-28-2941, Erebor

Thorin sat in his study. It was barely past dawn, he could feel it in his bones. He sipped the warm tea in his hand as he looked over the circlets in front of him and the two crowns. He had argued with Balin that he did not need a crown but only after seeing the crown did he fell okay accepting it. It was freshly made but Dwalin and Fíli's hands if the craft marks were anything to go by.

He picked up one of the circlets laying to the side. It was the one Freye had been married with. Balin had said just announcing her ladyship would be enough. Those inside the mountain knew she was Fíli's wife, most did at least. Still, it would be odd for her to act in the position of princess without an official declaration. He didn't want to wait months to do it. He added the circlet to the group.

That was one decision down. The other sat across from him. Kíli hadn't spoken when he walked in, just sat down and worked on stringing a marvelous bow.

"You will ask to court her?" Thorin confirmed.

"Aye, publicly."

"She is a member of the Wanderers now. She is safe."

"More the reason I should do it. The more people who know she is untouchable the better, Uncle." Kíli put the bow on the chair beside him. "Do I have your blessing to do it at the feast?"

"The ceremony," Thorin replied. "I will see to it that Legolas is ready for the family gift. You have completed one, yes?"

"A sword an elf would be proud to use."

"Go get ready Kíli. Let me take care of the rest."

"Thank you Uncle."

Thorin couldn't help but smile. His nephew was getting better at being a prince. It was certainly an improvement.

* * *

The Hall of Kings was packed full of dwarrows, men, and a small contingent of elves. Where the stone mold of King Thror once towered above them, stood a gathering of dwarrows and men as well as one wizard. Thorin stood in the middle of the group, forward and looking out over the people. Bilbo stood a little to his left, hand playing with the edge of his tunic. Flanking the pair on both sides was the rest of the Company. Dáin stood at the end of the left side with Thorin Stonehelm, his son, at his side. Young Thorin had returned from the Iron Hills only that morning with supplies for the mountain. Bard was to the right of the Company with his children lining up by age on his right. Tauriel, Legolas, and the elves of Rivendell that had accompanied the Company during the journey stood just off to the side of the dais with Thranduil, Galadriel, and Elrond joining them. It was quite the group.

Thorin turned his attention to Gandalf, standing just behind and to the side of Bilbo. The old Wizard came forward, the crowd beginning to quiet at the sight of him.

“People of Arda!” His voice silenced the whispers still running through the crowd. “We have been through much in the past months but we survived. We live and recover from the losses of the battle. It will take time but we will recover and become even greater than before. And, while these celebrations may be repeated later in Erebor and Dale when the repairs are done, we shall celebrate ourselves this day and see the rightful kings crowned before their peoples!”

A cheer rose up among the crowd from dwarrows, men, and elves. Gandalf shifted his staff just a touch and silence descended on the hall once more. Gandalf scanned those on the dais.

“Bring forth the line of Dale, so that our guest may be honored though his city is yet to be repaired. Durin’s Folk have offered you shelter until Dale is safe once more and like the great king you will be you chose the best route for your people. Step forward Bard the Bowman, so that we may make you king.” Thorin turned his head enough to see Bard and send him a reassuring nod. The soon-to-be former Bowman walked forward, standing before both Gandalf and Thorin, the later who had taken something from Balin before moving to join Gandalf. The something turned out to be a crown, white in color and made of the teeth and claws of the dragon. It was set in a silver crown to match, the color a stark contrast to Bard’s darker hair.

“Durin’s Folk offer this crown to show the bravery of Bard of the line Girion. We acknowledge his actions on the night that Smaug rose again and his actions toward the Company of Thorin Oakenshield when we arrived injured and tired on the edge of Long Lake. We call him dwarf-friend, a title that extends to his children as well. Let it be known in all kingdoms that we acknowldge his right to rule Dale and will provide defense if any dare to question it,” Thorin stated. His voice carried to the furthest reaches of the Hall.

“Kneel, Bard the Bowman,” Gandalf ordered. Bard did so and Thorin moved directly in front of him, placing the crown on his head. He stepped back with a smile on his face. “Rise King Bard. May you serve your people well.” Bard rose, clasping Thorin’s offered hand once he had risen and smiling brightly at the king. Thorin motioned toward the crowd and Bard turned to see them.

“It is my solemn oath that I will lead my people to the best of my abilities. I will see our people provided for and defended. We will rebuild Dale to its past splendor and Esgaroth as well. We will do that with the help of our allies, King Thranduil, King Thorin, Lady Galadriel, and Lord Elrond. Thank you for your confidence in me.” The last of his speech was directed more toward his fellow leaders who all smiled back at him reassuringly. He shared looks with them all while the cheers rang through the hall. Bard moved away, rejoining his children. Gandalf silenced the crowd before calling forward the children of Bard. Fíli, Freye, and Kíli came forward with simple circlets in hand.

“Children of King Bard, you all were born to a line of rulers. Your ancestors saw Dale to greatness years ago. The future looks truly bright with you at its forefront. Kneel and receive your birthright,” Gandalf prompted. The children knelt and the dwarrows moved to stand in front of them. Kíli placed the soft silver circlet on her head, the thin band resting delicately on her head. “Princess Tilda rise.” The little girl stood up shooting Kíli a small smile. Freye slid the silver circlet with bows carved into it on top of Bain’s head, resting the circlet so the crossing arrows would sit between his eyes. “Rise Prince Bain.” Bain got to his feet unsteadily. Freye helped him up all the way after seeing Bain’s nerves get the best of him. Fíli placed the last circlet, a silver band with a rose gold vine wrapping around it, on top of Sigrid’s head. The three dwarrows stepped away in unison, returning to their place in line. “Princess Sigrid rise.” She stood up, a soft smile crossing her face as she looked at the dwarrows. “Remember to guide your people with kindness and remember your humble origins.” The siblings bowed to the wizard before returning to their father’s side. He kissed them each on the forehead before they fell into line beside him.

Gandalf looked back to Thorin. “Thorin Oakenshield come forward to receive your birthright.” Thorin came forward and knelt in front of Gandalf. The wizard smiled as he took the simple crown from Balin and placed it on Thorin’s head. “Rise King Thorin. May you serve your people well.” Thorin rose to his feet and turned to the people gathered.

“I swear I will lead Durin’s Folk to the best of my abilities. I will see this mountain restored. I will see this mountain become a sanctuary for those who need it. We will thrive once more. WE will work with our neighbors in the Iron Hills, the Greenwood, and in Dale. We shall work with our allies in the elves, the other dwarven kingdoms, and the hobbits. We will renew old ties. This mountain will become great again but it will never fall to gold sickness or dragons again. We will not be overrun by the forces of darkness! Let Erebor, Dale, and the Greenwood stand together as the force of light in the east!” A cheer rang out in the hall. Thorin had to wait nearly a minute for the cheering to die down. “Still, we must remember our roots. We must never forget our days of wandering. We must never forget our days of wandering. Welcome home to Erebor!” The dwarrows cheered loudest of all. Gandalf smiled as he moved to the side of the stage and Thorin turned back to the Company.

“Lord Bilbo Baggins, step forward.” The hobbit, dressed in very hobbit like clothes formed from recycled old dwarven clothes by Dori, came to stand in front of Thorin. “Kneel.” Bilbo did so and Thorin motioned Balin over. The older dwarrow had another circlet in hand and gave it to his king. “Master Burglar, Lord of Erebor, my hobbit, my burglar, my love. I have found my One in you. For the longest time I thought Mahal had created me whole but meeting you proved that wrong. You are my husband in the eyes of your people.” There was a small whisper in the crowd. “We married on the eve of battle so that we might enjoy every moment together and no one could deny you your place in Erebor and at my side. When our people have returned to the mountain again, we will marry again in the dwarven way. Until then, I still wish to have my husband, my prince consort, at my side to help me rule this mountain and keep me levelheaded. Will you join me in this effort?”

“I will until the end of my days.” Thorin smiled fondly and placed the circlet atop his head. He pulle dBilbo to his feet and kissed him gently. Bilbo turned to greet the people of Erebor.

“I present Prince Consort Bilbo Baggins, my husband and One. He is a dwarf-friend and one of Durin’s Folk now.” The crowd roared their approval, the story of the burglar having reached many of them over the past weeks. Bilbo returned to the Company, Fíli squeezing his hobbit uncle’s shoulder. Thorin motioned his sister-sons to approach. They did, kneeling before him with back straight and smiles on their faces. Dwalin handed Bilbo two circlets.

“My sister-sons, Sons of Princess Dís and her husband Víli, my heirs, my boys. You followed me through great turmoil and both of you nearly perished more times than I care to remember. You are the sons I never had. I am proud to have seen you grow up into the amazing men you are. Kíli, I name you Prince of Erebor and Captain of the Archery Corps.” Bilbo handed Thorin the circlet with arrows on the side. Thorin slid it into place and let his hand cup his nephew’s cheek for a moment as the younger dwarrow smiled up at him. “You are my second heir. Rise, Prince Kíli, and take your place with your kin.”

The younger prince did just that, standing next to Balin. Thorin took the other circlet from Bilbo and looked to his eldest heir.

“Fíli you have stood beside me for many years. You grew up too quickly, taking on the mantle of heir to Durin’s Folk before you should have worried about it. You are my first heir, Crown Prince of Erebor. I am so proud of you and your brother.” He placed the circlet on Fíli’s head. “Remember where we came from. Remember our struggles. Remember all we have done and you will be an amazing king one day. Rise Fíli, Crown Prince of Erebor." The golden prince stood up, his shoulders straight as he turned to look at his people who cheered for him. Thorin motioned him back to the Company and he was received warmly by his hobbit uncle and his brother.

"Freye daughter of Asta and Frye, daughter of the Ur Family, step forward." Freye swallowed nervously. Balin had said there might be a small announcement but that she would not have to come forward. Obviously Thorin had decided different. Bifur, the eldest of the Urs, walked to his king and handed him a circlet, the same one Freye had been married with. Freye could not kneel in front of her king and Thorin motioned her to stand when she tried to.

"Let's not injure that leg further, aye?" A chuckle went through the crowd. "You joined our company for the sake of your cousin and because you felt the calling in your blood. You risked life and limb for us many times, befriended a warg who has saved the lives of Company and many a soldier here. You forged relations with the Elves and Men. You are a great asset to this family and this kingdom.

""It was my intention to only announce the creation of a new clan and the ladyship that would guide it but to do only that is a disservice to you. I will not wait to declare this officially." He placed the circlet on her head, smoothing her braids as he ran his hands down from the loop. "I name you Freye Astaul, Lady of the Wanderers, Ambassador of Erebor, wife of Crown Prince Fíli, and Princess of Erebor. I welcome your lost line back to Durin's Folk, to the family that was taken from your before we lost the Mountain to Smaug. Welcome home, daughter of Erebor. Take your place beside your husband." Freye managed bow even with her crutches before straightening and hobbling over to Fíli. He wrapped his hand around hers and kissed her knuckles.

Thorin went through the other declarations of lordship, Bifur and Bofur, Dori, Balin, and Glóin. The rest of the Company received titles, though Nori's title of Spymaster was conveniently left out of the conversation. Balin had briefed them before the ceremony and said Thorin would stop there, but he cleared his throat again.

"Tauriel will you come forth?" There was quiet over the hall as Tauriel processed the request and approached the dais. Bard offered a hand to pull her up and she thanked him before moving to kneel in front of Thorin. "Tauriel of the Elven Realm, you are a Daughter of the Greenwood. You are more than that to Erebor, to my family. You saved my family's lives. Before the entirety of the Mountain, I declare you dwarf-friend, daughter of the Family of Ur, Heir of the Ladyship of the Clan of Wanders, Captain of the Guard under Head Captain Dwalin, member of the Archery Corps, and, most importantly, the intended of Prince Kíli if you so accept his suit. Prince Kíli come forth." Kíli walked forward with a bead in hand and two separate presents. "Prince Legolas of the Greenwood, you are named kin to Tauriel of the Greenwood. Will you stand for her family?"

"I will gladly stand for her family," the prince said already approaching the dais. He jumped up the few steps and stood beside Tauriel who had been bade to rise.

"My sister-son," Thorin prompted. The king stepped back. Kíli swallowed nervously as he stepped forward. There was just the slightest tremor in his hands.

"Prince Legolas I offer you this sword." He held out the blade and scabbard. "It is as balanced as Orcrist and just as light. I hope it serves you well in your fights against orcs, goblins, and spiders."

"I accept your family gift, Prince Kíli."

The nervous prince turned to Tauriel. The redhead stared at him, her own nerves showing. He held out a new bow, carved with great care and detail, and with a quiver of arrows to match. Freye had noticed Tauriel carried a bow to small for her since the battle and often wondered if her own had been broken. It appeared so.

"Tauriel, I once said you walked among starlight. You do walk among starlight but you are just as lovely walking among glowing gems. You are my One. My soul called to yours upon our first meeting. We have fought together, synchronized in only the way soulmates can be. I watched your bow snap in combat, a shield against a sword coming to strike a fallen dwarf. I gift you these as my first gift, so that you may continue your path as the best archer I know. No offense intended Prince Legolas." The blond smiled and reassured him no offense was taken. "Tauriel will you accept my hand in courtship and betrothal? Will you do me the honor of wearing my bead?"

"I accept and I will gladly wear your bead with honor." He grinned as he handed over the gifts, promising to place the bead in her hair later that day. Thorin gave them a nod, sending Kíli and Tauriel back to the Company while Legolas rejoined his father.

Thorin turned back to the crowd. "Welcome, citizens of Dale and Erebor! Welcome our elven guests! And welcome the dwarrows of the Iron Hills! We offer a great feast in the main dining hall to celebrate the recovery of our nations!" Thorin bellowed. Cheers filled the air agian.

It was certainly a feast to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably won't update for a couple of days. Have to rewrite/revise the next few chapters and figure out how to drywall....


	10. 11-29-2941, Erebor

11-29-2941, Erebor

The elven caravan was ready to depart. A small squad of Greenwood elves would accompany the Rivendell elves home before continuing on with the contingent headed to the Shire. Elrond looked over at his children, motioning to their mounts as the three looked longingly back at the friends they had made. He was certain there would be a wedding or two to attend next year and wasn't worried about them growing apart. Besides, Thorin already informed him that the ravens would likely frequent Rivendell for a number of reasons. Only some of the elves were leaving though, the healers and hunters that had accompanied Elladan and Elrohir chose to stay longer. Galadriel had already left, an eagle seeing to her departure. Elrond nodded to Thorin, their words of goodbye already said, and headed toward the front of the caravan to lead with Glorfindel.

Of the Greenwood elves joining the caravan, Legolas was most surprising. He had persuaded his father to let him accompany Bilbo to the Shire and back. Thranduil had called it a political maneuver but Legolas confessed that it was more for the chance to stretch his legs and accompany his oldest friend through territories that could be unpredictable. Tauriel and Kíli both chose to accompany Bilbo, acting as envoys of Erebor and to see to the safety of Prince Consort Bilbo Baggins (Or as Dáin had begun calling him, Bagginshield. That was also Dáin's favorite thing to tease Thorin with, his great Oakenshield traded for Bagginshield. Personally, most of the Company found it hilarious.).

Bilbo, meanwhile, was attempting to persuaded Thorin and Balin to change his title to Burglar Bilbo Baggins, at least it was a title he could stand. His attempts didn't work out too well in his favor. The hobbit said his goodbyes, arms tight around Thorin and promising to return, before his husband lifted him onto his pony and wrapped a heavy coat around him.

Bifur rode up beside Bilbo, axe strapped to his back and smoking his pipe. One Ur could be spared to leave, Bofur working on the rebuilding effort as one of the best with stone sense and Bombur in charge of the kitchens. Of the Ri family, none could be spared. Nori was working in the shadows seeing to the safety of the royal family with Dwalin acting in public when Nori shouldn't act in private. Ori was assisting Balin, who was overwhelmed himself. Dori was the head of the textile guild, which currently consisted of mostly women of Dale. That had left the princes. Fíli had to be in the mountain and would not leave Freye. Kíli and Tauriel had volunteered to go with Bilbo and Bifur had been happy for the company.

Another dwarrow sent along was Thorin Stonehelm, quickly becoming Thor among the Company as to make him easier to tell apart from his namesake. Dáin sent his son along as the guard of both Bilbo and Kíli as an act of good faith and to make up for not joining Thorin sooner. It was also a chance to get the lad out on an adventure and out from under Dáin's feet. While Thor was technically an adult, he still had a ways to go compared to Fíli and Kíli, but perhaps that was because Thor had been spoiled in comparison in the Iron Hills where the strife that had come down on Durin's Folk hadn't been felt quite as severely. Besides, after catching Thor running around with some of the children of Men and causing more than their fair share of trouble, Dáin just wanted the lad out of his hair for a while.

One of those children had been Bain, surprisingly. It was after that revelation that Bard agreed to send Bain along with the caravan to help expose his son to other kingdoms and the struggles of others. Along with Bain went three other young lads roughly his age and who were the sons of those loyalest to Bard. Both the dwarrows and the elves on the caravan promised to teach the boys how to fight and the ways of the world. That had led to a discussion on weapons and soon the boys were outfitted with elven bows and dwarven short swords. It was a fair compromise.

Beorn rounded out the group, promising to see the group to the edge of the Misty Mountains before returning home. He had a treaty with both Thorin and Thranduil for seeds from his gardens, he had plenty to spare, and a group of elves and dwarrows would travel to Beorn's before the first thaw to retrieve the seeds.

Thorin moved to the battlements to watch the caravan leave. His throat tightened and his heart ached as he watch Bilbo, surrounded by those that loved him, move farther from the mountain. His hobbit, his husband, would be gone for far too long in his eyes. The Company had taken nearly seven months to reach Erebor from the Shire due to delays and extended rests. By Balin's best estimates, it would take the group elven weeks to traverse from Erebor to the Shire if they did not dally anywhere, which they certainly would. By Thorin's reckoning, the group would reach the Shire by the second month of the new year. On the return they would be weighed down by wagons. Balin and Bilbo agreed that it would likely take three months, if not four, to return to Erebor. Add onto that the planned month in the Shire, it would be far too long until they returned. The length of time in the Shire would be necessary for packing and waiting out the worst of the winter weather but it meant the group wouldn't return until the sixth or seventh month of the year. That was far too long in his eyes.

"They will be safe, Nu'adad." She hobbled up beside him, resting her arms on the battlements and looking out over the valley. "Nothing will befall them. The largest orc strongholds have been emptied. Those roaming know better than to approach our forces. They will be safe." Her words did little for him. He knew she was worried as well. She had promised to see Bilbo safely home at the beginning of this journey. Home was now Erebor and she could not keep him safe on this journey.

"I do not like being separated from him. After all that has happened I want him here where I can hold him and keep him safe."

"Understandable but we need you here to rule. We cannot have the entire royal family running off and leaving Dáin or Balin in charge. Mahal forbid you leave Fíli in charge. He's not yet ready for that role." Thorin snorted. His nephew would make a good king but he still had some growing to do. "Come, my king. We have to talk about land ownership. Some of those Iron Hills old geezers you warned me about are throwing a fit to rival Smaug's tantrum. Something about redrawing lines. Dori almost struck one when he suggested taking away the street dedicated to the textile industry."

"Mahal's beard. You just had to remind me. Those idiots are making me want to tear out my beard."

"You could always give them land, Uncle," Fíli said as he stood on the other side of his uncle, "in Moria. Let them deal with the orcs and Durin's Bane." Thorin's laughter run through the halls. Oh that was a good idea and one that would shut the dwarrows up.

In the end, Dáin kicked the lords from the Iron Hills out on their asses with enough supplies to return home and a promise to sheer their beards off if they tried idiocy like that again. He also declared that the pompous windbags had enough wealth in the Iron Hills that their desperate begging in Erebor was clearly an attempt to take good land from those that would need it. When the dwarrows tried to reenter Erebor, a few of the elves joined Dáin's men in chasing them off on boars and rams. It was quite the sight indeed.


	11. 12-2-2941, Dol Guldur

12-2-2941, Dol Guldur

The dwarrow reached forward from his cage, hands cupping the water dribbling down from between the cracks. It wasn't much, and it certainly wasn't clean, but it was enough to stay alive. He scrubbed his face and looked out over the other prisoners. There were Men, Elves, and Dwarrows confined to cages, some on the floor while other cages hung from the ceiling. The smell of death filled the air.

"Sounds off," someone said.

"Vee," the dwarrow called out. Names, nicknames, whatever the prisoners could remember to call themselves, filled the air one by one in order.

"Laur. I can see our nameless friend as well, he still stirs but is weakened."

"Where are the guards?" one of the Men grumbled. "We haven't eaten in a week."

"There must have been a battle. Perhaps we've been forgotten," someone said.

"If that is true, I doubt we will be here long. Either we will be moved or we might have rescue. If they know Dol Guldur was the stronghold, they may come here to wipe out the orcs left. We all felt the power weeks ago."

"Aye and see where that left us. Whoever it was left us here," someone snapped.

"Have hope," Laur called out. "That is all we have."

Vee shook his head. False hope could be dangerous.

Above the dungeons, the orcs looked at their wargs. The beasts had started foaming at the mouth and turning on each other for food. Even the orcs were getting hungry. They were uncertain what to do. Azog had not sent word. Bolg had not sent word. What were they to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, while I will most likely have something done within the next day or two, I need time to think. The Vee and Laur characters are already decided. They've been in my drafts for a while. The nameless character is just an open character slot that I may or not fill. Depends on how these next couple of drafts go. If you have an opinion, let me know.


	12. 12-5-2941, Dol Guldur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually finished this earlier than I thought I would. While I'm not completely happy with it, I do like what I did better than what I had before.

12-5-2941, Dol Guldur

Gandalf appeared in the clearing nearest the old fortress, staff in hand as he melted out of the darkness of the surrounding forest. Radagast was not among those gathered. The captain of the Lórien soldiers approached with the captain of the Greenwood soldiers.

"Radagast has gone for healers and wagons," the elf from Greenwood said. "We found Men, Elves, and Dwarves in the dungeons below."

"They're still bringing them up, but there are those who you should see for yourself, Mithrandir." The pair led them to a secluded section of the camp. A trio beside the fire, one of the few healers they had in the group moving away from the dwarrow in the middle who seemed increasingly upset. Gandalf narrowed his eyes until sudden realization dawned on him.

"Mithrandir it has been a century," the blond elf remarked as he cleaned the wounds of the fussy dwarrow in the middle. "Mellon nîn you are safe. Please, let me take care of you."

"Hurts."

"I know it does, mellon nîn, but you must stay still a while longer." The dwarrow he was tending to had several smaller wounds that had not healed yet. There were scars crisscrossing his chest and arms. Gandalf sat down on a stump while the two elf captains departed. Once the elf was done, he turned back to Gandalf.

"It does my old heart to see you alive, Prince Laurinion. Your father and brother will certainly be happy to hear the news. I am sad to say you will not reunite with Legolas upon your arrival at your father's halls. Your brother is attached to a diplomatic envoy headed for the Shire from Erebor and not set to return until mid-year."

"I can wait a few more months, Mithrandir. What matters is that I will see him again."

"Tharkûn, you said Erebor. These elves suggested that Erebor was retaken, Tell me, is it true?" the dwarrow on the other side of Laurinion asked.

"Aye, by Thorin Oakenshield and his Company and secured with the aid of the Greenwood, the Men of Dale, and the Dwarrows of the Iron Hills. If I am not mistaken, Master Dwarf, you bear an uncanny resemblance to Princes Fíli and Kíli, sons of Dís." Laurinion reached across to grip the dwarrow's shoulder as his shoulders tensed. "You are their father then?"

"Víli son of Tuli, at your service. Tell me, do my sons live?"

"Live they do indeed. Kíli accompanies Legolas to the Shire in fact. They go with the Prince Consort of Erebor and are accompanied by a Prince of Dale and Kíli's betrothed Tauriel of the Wanderers, a new clan established by Thorin that welcomes Dwarrow, Man, Elf, and Hobbit alike."

"Tauriel is formerly from Greenwood, yes?" Laurinion asked.

"Aye. Though her banishment was rescinded, others among the Greenwood Guard have made their feelings known against her. She allied with the dwarrows before Thranduil approved of such action. I do not believe it helped she and Legolas broke into his quarters to obtain information when he was being particularly stubborn either."

"And Fíli?" the desperate father asked.

"Now that his memory has returned, he is hale and working beside Thorin to restore the kingdom. He is a suitable crown prince. He's married as well to a lass of mixed heritage. She's loved by the Company and fills the role of princess well. They are in the mountain. Fíli is doing what he can to help the rebuilding efforts while Freye just woke from her injuries in the Battle of the Five Armies less than a week ago. Erebor holds elf, man, and dwarrow under it."

"Did you hear that?" one of the other dwarrows asked his fellow. "Erebor retaken."

"We will see you there," one of the elves remarked. "Anyone who wishes to take shelter in Erebor instead of Lothlórien or Eryn Galen will be escorted there. Those whose homes are in the Ered Luin may wish to return to Erebor. Caravans from Ered Luin start in the new year, right Mithrandir?"

"Indeed they do. The first is expected to arrive near mid-summer," Gandalf informed the camp as a whole. There were soft cheers at that. He turned back to his new found companions. "Dís will be among them, Víli."

"She has not remarried?"

"Not from what her sons say. Balin confessed that Thorin sheered the beard of the last dwarrow that attempted to wed her for political purposes."

"And what did Dís do?"

"According to other members of the Company, she ran him out of the settlement with Kíli on one hip and her cooking iron in hand." Laurinion snorted at that while Víli smiled brightly. "She will be very glad to see you again. I must confess that seeing you two as friends is quite surprising."

"Aye but we're not that dissimilar once you get over the height and the ears," Víli told him. He glanced at the dwarrow that curled against his side. "Can you help his mind, Gandalf? I'd hate to reunite him with Thorin like this."

"How much is there?"

"Little," Laurinion answered. "Much of his memory is gone, suppressed I would expect. All the other dwarrows from that dreaded battle died long ago. He is the last one to hold on. Víli used to take care of him until the orcs discovered there was a connection there. I hid it better, took care of him best I could."

"Quite the trio we make," Víli commented. "He knows us, will let us near him. He calls out for people sometimes, mostly Thorin or Dís, sometimes Thráin."

"Does he remember his name?" Gandalf asked.

The dwarrow looked up at that. He pointed at his chest, eyes still dazed and empty of the spark that should be there. "Rin. F'rin." He looked up at Víli. "Dís?"

"Aye, I married Dís. I'm Víli, remember?" The dwarrow considered it before nodding again.

"Vee." There was a smile on his face as he caught glimpses of a memory concerning two young dwarrows kissing in a library. "Vee and Dís." He looked at Laurinion. He pointed. "Flute?"

"That's right Frerin, I play the flute. I do not have one on me and I'm afraid I'm terribly out of practice. I will play when we are safer though, promise." The dwarrow pouted a bit at that. "Can you remember my name?"

"Laur."

"Good, that's good. Do you know who that is?" Laurinion pointed at Gandalf.

Frerin took a good long time to study the wizard before he smiled widely. Dropping his voice into an impression of his father, he said, "Damned grey wizard!" Víli choked back a laugh but Gandalf laughed aloud.

"Thráin did indeed call me that once," Gandalf conceded. "I am Gandalf."

"Dalf."

It was close enough for Gandalf.

"Who else knows of his identity?" Gandalf inquired.

"Just us and the two captains. They helped us get him up here," Víli said. He motioned to his missing arm and Laurinion's weakened state. "Like this, he would be easy to manipulate."

"Agreed." Gandalf looked over the weakened dwarrow. Frerin looked a lot like Thorin but reminded Gandalf of Kíli more. "We shall keep that hidden until we reach Erebor, though we may tell Thranduil. Besides Elrond and Galadriel, Thranduil is one of the best healers among the elves. Though it may not be elven magic that is needed in this case." He reached out with his senses. "I think this case needs a touch of the Yavanna's magic. Luckily there is one in Erebor familiar with it."

"Who?" Laurinion inquired.

"Fíli's wife Freye. She's a quarter hobbit," Gandalf answered. "Let me fetch you three something to eat before you rest. Hopefully Radagast will have returned with healers by tomorrow evening."

Radagast did indeed appear with healers the next day. It would be another two days before the wagons would reach them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Víli is a common name used for Fíli and Kíli's father so I used it. I like it better. I've seen Tuli too so I used that for Víli's father. As for Laurinion, I made him up. Legolas is never described as a crown prince to my knowledge so it is entirely possible he had siblings. Where did I get Laurinion: http://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/lotr-sindarin-names.php. The site is good. Has Hobbit, Elves, Dwarves, etc. 
> 
> My choice with Frerin: Can't this family get a freaking break? So yes, little brother was brought back to life because I wanted him to be. I've read way to many where he comes back or was never killed and I like the idea of Thorin having a little brother and Dís going crazy because Thorin didn't tell her soon enough. As to his behavior, I think he's just shut off so much of his brain to keep the pain out. He didn't have anyone to talk to before Víli and Laurinion appeared, not really. He just withdrew into himself.


	13. 12-20-2941, Erebor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know another chapter?! Well, I did 12 and 13 together to figure out how I was playing out the Dol Guldur survivors so it's done too.

12-20-2941, Erebor

"You should go to your rooms. I can deal with the welcoming," Dwalin said as he stared down a particularly stubborn Princess of Erebor. "I'll have Óin sent up."

"Dwalin it just aches for Mahal's sake. Besides, you are not carrying me up there, I refuse. Kund is off with the children as to not startle the new arrivals."

"I'll send for Fíli."

"You wouldn't dare. Besides, we both know he is arms deep in forging the new pipes for the market district."

"And he'd come running if he knew you'd fallen." Dwalin huffed as he crossed his arms and stared at the lass that sat stubbornly on the platform she was meant to be standing on to greet the survivors of Dol Guldur on. "Will you consent to Beriadis being summoned? At least to give you something for the pain?"

"Fine." The orders were given.

Dwalin shook his head as he looked up at the guards atop the wall. He was signaled another twenty minutes. He huffed and leaned against the platform. The messenger from the Greenwood had reached Erebor two nights before giving them numbers to expect and injuries. There had been elves, men, and dwarrows in Dol Guldur, everything but a hobbit it seemed, and Dwalin was glad no hobbits were found. The injuries list was disheartening and he couldn't imagine a hobbit softer than Bilbo withstanding such horrors.

As it was, they were expecting forty of the survivors, a mix of men and dwarrows. The elves found among the group were split between Lothlórien and the Greenwood. A few men from the southern kingdoms had remained in Lothlórien while Gondor and Rohan were contacted for aid. Freye and Balin had worked out lodging options for the survivors and Óin had worked with the healers to see to patients. To reinforce the caravan approaching, Thorin had sent war rams and boars out to meet them, each rider carrying several blankets and fresh smoked meats. Thorin had also sent a messenger after Dáin, who had returned to the Iron Hills the night before the message had been received, to inform him of the survivors. There would certainly be a few Iron Hills dwarrows among the survivors and Dáin would most likely send his own men to fetch them once they were stable enough for the trip home.

Today was their arrival. With Fíli busy in the forges and Thorin sitting through a council meeting (an apparent emergency one but the dwarrow lords were just there to gripe again from what Balin had said), Balin and Freye had been left to greet the group. Balin took Freye's daily duties, her rounds in the healing halls and provisions checks, so that she could greet the survivors. She planned to greet each one personally as they entered and promise to speak to them over the coming weeks.

Only, Freye had fallen while milling about near the gate. Someone had not thought to clean up a spilled bucket of water and it had turned to ice thanks to its close proximity to the open door. Dwalin, assigned as her guard for the ceremony (he wouldn't let anyone else do it), had been there in moments and carried her to the platform to sit. The painful ache she was feeling was clearly written across her face. She kneaded just above the splint as if it would help. He was grateful when Beriadis arrived and gave her something for the pain. The elf left to arrange a cart to deliver her to the royal quarters where Óin would be waiting for her (the messenger had told Beriadis in front of Óin, not the best of ideas for the poor lad).

"Dwalin?" He answered with a hum, his elbow bumping into her good knee to acknowledge her. He could see the first of the wagons nearing the door. "I confronted Balin about courting Sigin'amad. I named him Sigin'adad."

"Aye, I know. He wouldn't stop talking about it for hours."

"That makes you my family too Dwalin, more than you already were. And I wanted to know..." He looked over at her, hand coming to rest on hers. "Can I call you Uncle?" Dwalin smiled over at her, pulling her into a hug and patting her back.

"Aye lass, you can call me Uncle."

They broke apart as the greeting horn sounded. The first wagon arrived, the injured appearing out of the back as Freye came around the rear of the wagon.

"Welcome to Erebor. I am Princess Freye. Your rooms have been seen to and the healers are waiting for you. Whatever you need, please ask for. In the coming weeks I will talk with each of you to learn your plans and help you in whatever way Erebor can."

The wagon pulled away after the dwarrows and men thanked her for her kindness. She greeted the elves that had been sent as escorts, thanking them for their efforts in between wagons. She sent them along to warm lodgings where a meal was waiting for them and access to a hot bath. The dwarven riders were greeted as well, Freye calling most of them by name.

"Mahal's beard. Freye!" She hobbled over to the wagon as Dwalin helped a dwarrow down. She had already talked with this group. "Freye this is Bifur's husband Tevrom. We thought him lost." Freye's eyes widened as she looked over the dark haired dwarrow. He had a long scar running from his neck into his shirt. His hair had been done into a simple braid.

"You know Bifur?" Tevrom asked.

"Aye, he is my cousin through Fifur, his uncle. I wish he were here but he is escorting the Prince Consort and the Prince on a diplomatic trip as well as gathering Bombur's wife and children to move here."

"Bombur married and had children?" The shock on the dwarrow's face said just how shocked he was. "I have missed quite a lot. Bombur and Bofur are here though?"

"Aye. Bofur's a Lord of Erebor, Bombur's the head cook of the royal kitchens and head of the newly founded culinary guild," Dwalin told him.

"You have injuries, Cousin," Freye said. "Beriadis!" The elf jogged over to them. "The cart to the royal halls, Tevrom will be joining us. He is my cousin's husband and I will have none but you and Óin seeing to him today."

"Best place for the reunion too," Dwalin joked. "You wait over there Tev. We'll be there shortly." Tevrom cautiously hugged his new found cousin-in-law, mindful of her crutches, before following Beriadis who began treating the wounds she could see once he was seated.

Several wagons later, Gandalf drove the last one into the mountain, the doors sealing shut behind them. He paused the wagon beside them but did not move to get down.

"Some discretion is needed for the pair in the back," Gandalf informed them. "Their identities will make them targets in their condition."

"Drive to Beriadis," Freye told him. "Do you mind if I join you up there Gandalf? Had a bit of a spill myself."

"Of course not my lady." Dwalin set Freye on the wagon and followed alongside until they reached Beriadis. There was a large door that could obscure this portion of the entrance and Dwalin signaled the guards to close it. The only entrance or exit was now the sloped walkway that led up to a secret passage that connected to the royal quarters. Dwalin helped Freye down and she hobbled along to the back where Dwalin brought the board down and held his hand up to the dwarrow trying to climb down.

Set on his feet proper, the blond dwarrow looked Dwalin in the eyes and grinned widely. Dwalin's eyes showed unshed tears as he took in the sight of Víli son of Tuli.

"Dwalin Fundinul. I cannot tell you how glad I am to see your ugly mug again." Dwalin continued to stare. "Dwalin?" The old guard pulled the blond in for a hug, arms like vices as they held him tight and his shoulder shook. Víli hugged him back as best he could until Dwalin pulled away. The guard turned toward Freye who could see the blond dwarrow better now.

He looked like Fíli, minus the Durin traits her husband had. His blond hair was the same shade. The accent he spoke with, something picked up in his youth that Kíli never learned with his absence. She didn't have to ask but she did.

"Víli father of Fíli, husband of Dís?" she confirmed. He nodded. "I am Freye wife of Fíli son of Víli. It is an honor to meet you."

"The honor is all mine. Oh let me look at you. When Gandalf said Fíli had married I could hardly believe it. He said you're part hobbit?"

"Aye. You would remember my grandmother, you attended her wedding according to her, Brynye Took."

"Knew her well yes. I can see her in you. You're not as dissimilar in appearance as first glance might suggest. Your eyes though, they are green a rich green, while hers are blue."

"She says I was born with blue and sometimes they still seem blue in the right light," Freye told him.

"I look forward to getting to know you, Freye. I know I reek but may I have a hug?" She smiled and leaned into him, crutches unsteady below her but Dwalin steadying her. Víli hugged her tight in return and kissed the top of her hair. "Now then, Dwalin, help me with our last friend. Keep your voice down though."

Freye backed up enough for Dwalin to move in and lower the other dwarrow down with Víli's guiding hand. The dwarrow steadied himself before looking at Dwalin.

"Frerin," Dwalin whispered. The dwarrow beamed at him before growing confused. He let out a huff and put his hands atop Dwalin's head and made a form, Dwalin's mohawk that he had once worn. "Aye Frerin, it's me Dwalin. I shaved it off years ago. Oh laddie I'm glad to see you." He pulled Frerin in for a hug. The older dwarrow melted into the firm embrace and held back just as tight. They pulled apart and Dwalin looked to Víli while Frerin looked at Freye.

"He's got memory problems," Víli told him. "Lady Galadriel and King Thranduil both looked. Their magic cannot undo it. Gandalf suggested Freye's hobbit magic might be able to help. A softer approach mixed with a bit of stone magic."

"I can certainly try," Freye answered.

"Beads." Frerin motioned to the beads on her hair. "Please." She hesitated a moment before pulling her braids forward. Some of her beads were of the royal line, he might have been recognizing them. He paused on one before noticing her necklace of beads. She slipped it off and held it out to him. He touched one bead, her great grandmother's bead, and looked at Dwalin.

"Know this bead." His voice was soft, cracking. "Know it." He pointed at it again when Dwalin looked confused. "Sigin'adad show us mark." He motioned to the top of the bead. "Show Tho'in, me. Show us. Important." Frerin released the bead, taking both his hands and beating them against his forehead. He looked so frustrated as he tried to remember or maybe because he couldn't remember the words he needed. Freye put the beads away and reached slowly toward him. "Important, Dwa, important." His frustration mounted. Freye placed her hands over his, curling around them before bringing them down. He looked down at her with eyes that darted back and forth. He was trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, she could see it.

"It's okay, Frerin. It's okay. Let us worry about you for now, all right? My beads have waited over a century, they can wait another day. I promise. We'll figure it out. Okay?"

He took a minute before nodding. He brought his hands up to cup her face. "Freye of Br'nye." He smiled as he remembered the other name. "Br'nye save Dís. Br'nye home with us. Important. Durin blue, Br'nye, Durin blue." His thumbs traced along her eyes. The words seemed harmless enough but Freye glanced at Dwalin. Durin blue was an eye color more than the color worn by the House of Durin. The house colors were because of the eye color that cropped up every generation in select children even when both parents had eyes that should not have a blue eyed child. The association of Brynye with Durin blue meant something to Frerin. He said, "Important," again before hugging her to his chest.

Freye was able to convince him to go to the cart. Víli followed and Dwalin took up the rear with Gandalf. Beriadis led the pony up the passage and stopped near the doors when they arrived. The four injured dwarrows were shuffled inside and Óin turned around to greet them.

The, luckily, wooden mug in his hand dropped to the ground. Víli smiled at him and gave the healer a hug.

"Oh laddie."

"Good to see you too."

"Tevrom," Óin greeted. He knew who the dwarrow was, had only met him a few times, but Bifur's longing gaze at the one drawing of his husband had meant Óin knew that face well. His eyes fell to Frerin last. "Frerin."

"Óin!" Frerin pulled the healer in for a hug. He looked back at Dwalin and pointed to one of his wounds. "Ointment!"

"Mahal's beard, of course he'd remember that," said Óin. "All right, Tevrom, Víli, then Frerin and Freye."

"I am fine, just sore," Freye snapped.

"You need your splint adjusted," Beriadis replied. "I'll take care of her. You see to the others for now." Dwalin helped Freye to the daybed where the elf took care of her leg. Gandalf found the private royal kitchen and made tea for the group. When he returned, Frerin had sat down beside Freye and was humming a tune under his breath. Víli was resting on a chair.

It took some time to treat them all, and that was only after Freye had moved Frerin to a private room to be seen to. The room she took him to was hers and Fíli's room. She had Dwalin and Beriadis take her and Fíli's things out of the room. This room had belonged to Frerin before the fall of Erebor, it would again.

"I have sent for Thorin," Gandalf announced. He watched as Freye closed the door to her room to tend to Frerin privately. The dwarrow needed a bath and kind words and touches. She would do that, with some of Óin's help.

"Should be interesting," Víli muttered.

Thorin was not in the best of moods. He had missed welcoming the survivors into Erebor for a rather stupid meeting on property lines of all things. He had finally decided they were all idiots and told them Balin would be in touch within a few days. He headed for the royal chambers where Freye had been moved after falling. Not hearing about her accident until now had irked him. He should have covered her for the greeting but no one had told him and she had been forced to do it even though she should have seen a healer right away. Thorin had also been warned they had guests in the royal chambers and that just put him in a worse mood. Who could have the right to go there now?

He opened the door to the den of the royal chambers only to stop in his tracks. Óin was checking a bandage on a dark haired dwarrow's head. A blond dwarrow looked up from the daybed. Dwalin looked up from the cookies he was destroying and barely got his arms out in time to catch the king when he fell forward.

"Víli?"

"'Ello Thorin." The blond dwarrow got to his feet unsteadily and walked over. He offered his arm to his brother-in-law and Thorin took it, standing and pulling Víli into his arms in the same motion. The king's arms tightened around his brother-in-law. Víli relaxed in the firm arms around him, the emotions of the past few days finally catching up to him as he cried into Thorin's shoulder, arm clutching the robe on Thorin's back.

"I thought I lost you," Thorin said. "We lost you. I found your arm with sword still in its grasp. I was certain it would have killed you. If I had known, Víli if I had known I would have moved mountains to reunite you with your family." The promise was sincere and Víli nodded into Thorin's shoulder. Thorin's ramblings trailed off into Víli's hair. "Welcome home, my brother."

"It is good to be home," Víli replied. "My son? Gandalf said Fíli is here."

"I did not have them sent for yet. I wished to know the guests before recalling those closest to us here. I can have it done now if you wish."

"That include my husband's cousins?" Thorin looked at the dark haired dwarrow that spoke. Thorin steadied himself on Víli. "My king."

"Tevrom husband of Bifur," Thorin steadily said, "welcome home. You have met Freye then?"

"Lovely lass."

"Agreed. Dwalin." The dwarrow stood up, cookie in hand and sliding his axe off the back of the chair. "Find the Company. Tell Bombur we eat here tonight."

"It will be done. Before I go, Thorin, Freye is seeing to the last guest. Before you see to him, he's not quite of the right mind, Thorin. There's a lot missing. Gandalf says Freye may be able to help."

"His name?"

Víli tightened his hold on Thorin's shoulder. "It's Frerin. Prince Laurinion of the Greenwood and I have looked out for him as best we could over the years but much of the damage was done before we arrived. He does remember bits. He knew Óin and Dwalin, Gandalf too."

Thorin stared at the blond dwarrow before looking at Dwalin who gave an encouraging nod. "Where is he?"

"In his old room. Freye had us remove her and Fíli's things. She wants him in a familiar room," Dwalin told him.

Thorin nodded, clearing his throat as he did so. "Good idea. We will move them to my father's old rooms, fitting for Fíli to have them as crown prince. The remodeling was finished?" Dwalin nodded. "We'll move everything before supper. Now, I must see my brother." Thorin spun to the hallway that led to the lesser princes rooms. His old room was down this hall but he had moved, last week in fact, to the king's chambers after renovations had been completed. Thorin paused outside the door and finally knocked.

"Come in." Freye's voice was full of mirth. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. She stood beside Frerin who was pointing at a mural on the wall and pantomiming stories of his childhood. Freye laughed softly and signed to him in iglishmêk. What surprised Thorin was that Frerin answered back in half done sentences that could be strung together rather coherently. Freye smiled widely at him before signing for him to turn around and greet his brother.

Frerin nearly spun. His eyes spoke volumes as he took in the sight of his brother as King Under the Mountain.

"Tho'in."

"Frerin."

Thorin barely hesitated in gathering his little brother into his arms. Frerin sniffled and buried his face in Thorin's chest.

"Nadad," Frerin mumbled.

"Naddith." Thorin looked up at Freye as she moved around them. "My thanks."

"My pleasure, nu'adad. He remembers more iglishmêk than Westron or Khuzdul. I'd like to keep him near. He remembers my grandmother and I think he knows he can trust me. I can work with him to heal his mind as well."

"Do you think you can?"

"With a few months, yes. Azanulbizar left a great scar on his mind but I think with care it can be healed."

"Start after you have seen to the survivors."

"I planned on it. For now I think he would be best kept with Víli while he heals and with a member of the Company that he knows. I will leave you to him for now. What shall I tell the others?"

"Send Dwalin to get me once the Company has arrived."

"It will be done." She hobbled out to the den to wait. Víli and Tevrom were moving about and it took her a minute to realize what they were doing. Óin and Gandalf were even helping as they moved Freye and Fíli's things out of the room. Beriadis picked up one of the chest that had laid at the foot of the bed and carried it out while Víli carried the warg pelt to the other room. "What are you doing?"

"Moving you into the Crown Prince's rooms," Víli answered.

"You sit," Óin ordered as he carried a basket of her clothes out. She huffed and sat down on the daybed. The group returned and Beriadis left just before Dwalin opened the door again and the Ur brothers walked in.

"Supper is coming," Bombur promised. "Now what was the surprise--." He stared at Tevrom who sat on the couch. "Tev?"

"Aye Bombur."

"You're alive," Bofur whispered.

Their cousin-in-law found himself with a lap full of dwarrows as the pair hugged him tightly and whispered reassurances to him. Víli sat down beside Freye and motioned to the family.

"Always like that?"

"More or less. When they found out I was their cousin we had a huge celebration while we were staying in Rivendell. Kept the elves up we did." Víli snorted with laughter as the door to the room opened again. It was the Brothers Ri and Glóin. Glóin spotted Víli as he entered and stopped causing young Ori to run into his back.

"Glóin?"

"Laddie is there a blond dwarf sitting there missing an arm?" Glóin asked.

"Yes."

"Nori, Dori, you seem him too?"

"It's Dís' husband," Nori said. "Dís' dead husband. I'm hallucinating. Dwalin I'm hallucinating right?"

"Nah, Âzyungel. Víli son of Tuli lives."

Glóin reached him first, arms wrapping around him and blubbering about long lost family. The Ri family shook themselves from it fast enough and greeted both Víli and Tevrom, who they did know from all their years in the Blue Mountains.

The door opened again as Glóin asked where Thorin was and Nori commented he heard there was a third guest. Balin and Fíli entered the room talking about the next day's appointments. The silence in the room as they waited for the pair to realize who sat beside Freye brought the pair to a halt.

Dwalin caught his brother before he could fall. Balin's shocked expression said it all for him. Víli heaved himself to his feet and pulled the old advisor to his feet, arm wrapped around him and smiling.

"We thought you lost," Balin choked out.

"So I've heard. I'm here now." He stepped back from the old advisor and looked to his son. Fíli stared at him wide-eyed and looked unsteady on his feet.

"Adad?" Fíli asked.

"Hello dashat."

Fíli wrapped his arms around his father, shoulders shaking in unvoiced sobs as he clung to the man he had thought lost. Freye watched with a smile on her face. It was nice to see them reunited.

"Uh, son?" Fíli looked at his father's confused face. "Why is there a warg nosing his way into the room and looking like that cat that ate the chicken?"

"Kund," Freye said exasperated. The warg perked up. "Sorry, he should have still been with the children. Fíli and I adopted him as a pup; he was trapped in a snare line. He's followed us ever since. He's normally my mode of transportation around the mountain but we didn't want to startle the new arrivals." Kund let out a soft whine and ducked his head but made no effort to enter the room further.

"Kund!" It was said the same way an excited child would shout out puppy. Kund perked up and bound over to Frerin who slid to the floor and wrapped his arms around the warg. "Kund! Fluffy!" Thorin looked just as bewildered as the rest of them as Frerin scratched the warg's stomach.

"Well at least I won't have to worry about Kund around him then," Freye mused.

"Mahal's beard. Frerin?" Balin's voice was just above a whisper. The other dwarrow must have heard it though because he looked up. He signed help to Thorin who got him to his feet and watched as Frerin stepped forward. The prince looked confused for a moment before he smiled.

"Bal." He reached forward and ran his hand from the top of Balin's head to the corresponding spot on his chest. "Shorter Bal'n."

"Wider, not shorter you imp." Frerin grinned and hugged Balin tight. Fíli looked to his father in confusion.

"That's your uncle, Fíli. Frerin was in Dol Guldur with us," Víli told him gently. "He's not all there."

"More than you thought," Freye informed him. "Frerin?" The dwarrow looked to her. She put her crutches to the side and signed while speaking, "Remember how I said I am princess? This is my husband Fíli." She motioned to Fíli. "Son of Víli and Dís."

Frerin turned to Fíli with a smile. He slowly made his motions, words left out but his general meaning coming across. "I am Uncle Frerin. I am sorry I took your room but it was mine first. Freye said it was okay." His smile was wider there and Fíli had to laugh a little."You have Dís' eyes and her bearing."

"He never tried signing with us," Víli said.

Frerin laughed softly and signed, "You talk with an accent. Gave me a headache."

The room was lost in laughter. When Víli did sign back a few sentences, Bofur informed him some of the gestures he had used were only known in the Blue Mountains. Víli, in return, had asked how he was supposed to know that.

They told their stories over dinner. Tevrom spoke of the night raid that had taken him from Bifur and seeing the ax swung at his beloved's head. Tevrom had thought Bifur dead all these years but the hope had kept him going. Víli spoke of the work caravan, Fíli's hand resting on his father's shoulder in comfort.

"I was protecting Thorin's back when this white hot blade chopped off my arm. It must have fallen in the fire and an orc must have picked it up. Then I was dragged off by wargs to the orc camp. They let me live because they knew who I was. They thought I might be of use one day," Víli said.

"Frerin?" Thorin asked gently. "Nadad, I would like to know how you survived. I watched you fall."

"Orc had bad aim," Frerin signed. He pulled his shirt collar to the side to reveal a nasty looking scar. "Threw us together. We had a healer. He saw to us until we were moved to Dol Guldur, before Laur and Víli came. Father was there once."

The room grew deadly quiet. Frerin looked to Víli who gave him a nod. Frerin started to sign but his fingers jerked at the memories. He adjusted himself and finally said, "Drove him mad. Said you were dead. I didn't believe but he did after so long. His ring was lost."

"All the better for it,"Gandalf remarked.

"Didn't know you spoke our signs," Dwalin remarked.

"I picked up enough," Gandalf answered. "I will leave you for the evening. Thorin I leave in the morning. May I have lodging?"

"Aye. See the guard at the end of the hall. He knows where we have put you up," Thorin said. "Before you go, Gandalf, I do not want this spread to those returning. They will likely think we have gone mad with such claims or endeavor to push the caravan faster than is safe. As it is, I would have Frerin and Víli's identities protected until they have healed more. Tevrom has not been in the public eye and can go unnoticed. It would be dangerous for both my brother and Víli if their states were learned."

"I'll have guards assigned to the hall, a double duty," Dwalin told him. "Nori."

"A shadow will be assigned to both of them. I have people in mind already. Two of my shadows from Ered Luin heard of our quest while they were in the southern kingdoms and arrived last week. I trust them with my life and that is not something I say lightly."

"Thank you," Thorin told him. "Óin I would ask that you see to their recovery personally. When they are well enough to mill about with the general population, we can talk about the best way to do it. Víli you will stay in Dís' old room. We were already cleaning it to prepare for her arrival. Tevrom, Bofur and Bombur can show you to the Ur family quarters."

"Uncle you do realize Amad is going to kill you for this later, right?" Fíli inquired.

"I sincerely hope she is too busy kissing her husband to give a damn," Thorin muttered.

"Want another nephew that badly Thorin?" Víli teased.

The blond received a ball of bread to the face for that. The whole table laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, comment about the line with Freye's eyes. I realized a while back, while reading the previously posted works to remember what I wrote, that I had Freye born with Durin blue eyes like her grandmother but that she had green when she was older. So I'm explaining it away as a trick of the lightning and what she's wearing (my eyes used to do that when I was younger, started a lot of arguments). 
> 
> I also decided that signing was easier for Frerin to remember than words aloud. He could have signed to himself all day in his cage without the orcs caring. They would have just thought he was gesturing like a madman. I don't know what Thorin and Frerin talked about while they were alone. Probably just a lot of hugging and thanks to Mahal.
> 
> Oh, another note: So, I don't know how many more updates I can crank out this week. I have to make a trip this weekend. Turns out my aunt has been lying about her cancer and we don't think she's going to make it to the new year. So between packing and travel, I don't know what's going on. Plus I have painting and a brake job to do. So, see you when I see you.


	14. 1-3-2942, Erebor

1-3-2942, Erebor

The scream was fresh, pain exploding across his chest as he flew across the field. Everything hurt. His heart felt like it would burst with every beat. The orc walked closer, his club swinging menacingly. Another orc stopped the next blow, shouts exchanged between the pair. Frerin desperately crawled across the ground toward his sword. He had to get back to his feet.

The second orc picked him up by the back of his armor. It kicked the sword further away from the young prince and spoke to him in low growling noises. The pain increased.

“Thorin! Thorin! BROTHER!”

“Frerin!”

He jerked forward on the bed, rolling toward the side of the bed and going for the bucket that laid beside it. Óin was there, holding the bucket as Frerin hurled. Freye swept the elder’s hair back and held it for him as she leaned across the bed to help.

“I think that’s enough, Irak’adad,” Freye told him gently. “I want you to rest, okay?”

“Keep going,” he panted.

“Irak’adad.”

Óin interrupted and asked, “Can you concentrate on certain memories? Guide him to better ones?”

“It might take a little longer,” Freye answered. “I’m not a mind healer like elves. I follow the weave I see.”

“Find one that corresponds to happy memories,” Óin suggested. “Ready lad?”

“Older than you,” Frerin snorted. Frerin leaned back on the bed, head resting on the leg Freye had hooked under her other leg. She put her hands on both sides of his head, fingers moving to massage his scalp. He slowly relaxed again.

This wasn’t their first session attempting to fix him mind. They had been working on it at night mostly, an hour spent reconnecting paths with languages. Frerin could speak better now and his iglishmêk was nearly perfect, if a little outdated in some signs. He picked up new signs fast and Bofur was more than willing to sit with the prince and talk for an hour or two in iglishmêk. Now Freye sat with Frerin for two hours a day, typically in the morning, and helped him sort through his memories. Óin was always present now, ready to separate them if need be and to give what aid he could.

Freye followed the emotional ties in Frerin’s mind. It was manipulating both Mahal’s gifts and Yavanna’s gifts that let her weave a bridge between the separated memories.

“Adad, who is that?” Frerin asked from the back of Thorin’s pony. They were approaching the edge of the Shire and the town of Bree. They planned to camp there for the night, perhaps rest for another it was still undecided, before moving on to Ered Luin. “Toll keepers?”

“Fundin,” Thráin called over.

“I’ll check it out Cousin. Balin stay with Thorin,” he ordered. Fundin urged his tired pony a little faster until he arrived at the pair waiting for them where they had planned to camp for the night. Fundin leaned down on his pony as he talked with the one person before a hearty laugh drifted back to Thráin. Fundin jumped off the pony and shook hands with the person waiting for him. He shouted back that it was okay to approach. Thráin signaled the caravan to set up camp for the night, giving Balin and Thorin instructions to see to the younger dwarrows among them.

Frerin helped his brother before their father returned a while later, the sound of Fundin training someone filling the air.

“Thorin grab your sword. There’s a dwarrowdam that could use some practice. Master Fothon is a dwarrow living in Bree with his family. His young Brynye needs some weapons experience,” Thráin told him.

“Can I watch Adad?” Frerin asked.

“Help your sister with the cooking fire first,” Thráin told him.

By the time his task was done, between ribbing Dís for slipping in the mud and chasing one wild little dwarrow by the name of Dwalin Fundinson, Frerin nearly ran into the lass that he wanted to meeting.

“Hello! Brynye Took at your service!”

“Frerin son of Thráin at yours.”

“Oh! You’re Thorin’s brother. He told me you like to use knives,” Brynye remarked. “Maybe we can get a quick practice in?”

“Perhaps. This is my sister Dís.”Brynye greeted the other dwarrowdam. Frerin took in the dwarrowdam. While Fothon, her adopted uncle if he had overheard correctly, was likely a Broadbeam, Brynye was clearly a Longbeard with a little hint of Broadbeam. She had a decent beard going already, braided into a vine of flowers. Her dark hair was done in braids that could rival a dwarrow’s in complexity. She had flower patterns designed in the larger braids while her smaller ones were weaved into the large braid. He caught sight of her few beads, some that marked her adoption into Fothon’s family and another, made of wood, to represent her adoption by her hobbit mothers. It was the silver one that caught his gaze.

“Frerin you’re staring,” Dís admonished.

“I’m sorry it’s just the bead.” Dís raised an eyebrow and Frerin motioned to the braid. Brynye pulled that braid out of its place and let Frerin look at it closer. “I swear I’ve seen this bit before.” He pointed to the upper side of the bead. “Your mother’s?” he asked.

“Aye. My Ma-Ta and Ma-Sha says that she pulled it out of her hair before her death.”

“Your mother is of Erebor,” Frerin decided. “I know I’ve seen this mark before.”

“I am not worried about it,” Brynye told him. “I have a loving family that takes care of me, Prince Frerin. I need not go searching for a family that might no longer be living.”

“Just Frerin, please.” He let out a light huff before taking one of his daggers off his belt. “Want to go a round?”

“It would be a pleasure.”

Frerin laughed as they took to fighting and grappling with each other while Dís watched. It was the first time he had laughed in months.

Frerin left the memory behind, clinging to the sensation of fingers running through his hair. He turned his head into the side of Freye’s leg and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Irak’adad?”

“Your sigin’amad,” he said slowly, “good with knife still?” Óin started laughing at Frerin’s question. Freye chuckled and stroked the side of his head.

“Aye she is. Taught me a good bit.”

“Good.” He looked up at her, eyes filled with happy tears. “Another, please?”

“My pleasure, Irak’adad.”

* * *

Fíli looked up from his anvil to see his father approaching him. He carried a small sack and had a waterskin over his shoulder.

“Bakn galikh, Adad,” Fíli said as he put his hammer down. “What brings you down to the forges?”

“I wish to have lunch with my son,” Víli answered. “If you can be spared.”

“Of course. Let me just hand this off. I’m due at meeting this afternoon anyway,” Fíli told him. The blond prince took care in handing off his part of the new pipe to the next dwarrow down the line before shouting his goodbyes to his fellow workers. He pulled a towel off the table beside his work station and wiped away a fair bit of the grime as he followed his father out of the forges. “Where shall we eat?”

“I was thinking you could show me that secret passage that got you all into the mountain. Balin said it has a remarkable view of the valley.”

Fíli chuckled and led his father up to the passages by the treasury and out the secret door. He propped the door open and wedged a sizable stone in place to make sure it didn’t shut on them. It wasn’t the first time one of the Company had used the hidden passage as some place to get away from it all. By the time he had turned around, Víli had set the sack down and pulled out several sandwiches and a covered bowl of boiled eggs. Fíli sat down beside his father, the cool air refreshing after hours in the forge. He was lucky to have left his heavier jacket down by the forge.

“How are you feeling, Adad? Beriadis was helping you with your muscles earlier, yes?”

“She’s just as stubborn as Óin,” Víli answered. “I’m going to be sore in the morning. Your uncle just laughed, well, until she put him through his paces too.”

“It is fortunate that Uncle came out as uninjured as he did for that battle. If it was not for our friends I fear what the outcome would have been.”

“I would have lost a son, perhaps two.” Fíli looked at his father sharply concerning that. “I got the full story out of Óin one day with a little help from Tev. He told me that Freye shot Azog when he held you captive and that she sent Tauriel to catch you before you fell. Certainly if you had passed, Kíli would have done something reckless. From what everyone says you two are attached at the hip. I’m surprised you can be separated from him this long.”

“It hurts, don’t get me wrong,” Fíli answered. “He has been at my side since he was born, Adad. I was helping Amad with him since his birth even though I could barely do anything. I would keep him busy, play with him, just be there and he’d be content. He’s my brother and I love him dearly. Being separated like this is very hard. It is for a good cause though. He gets to bond with his beloved and he can protect Uncle Bilbo.”

“Ah yes, Bilbo. He is a Hobbit?”

“Aye.”

“And Freye’s cousin?”

“Distantly related but yes. As they’ve explained it, just about everyone in the Shire is related to everyone else. Closeness of relation doesn’t factor into how the family acts. They met during a big family gathering and they ended up attached at the hip.”

“Loyal to each other then?”

“Very. Freye followed us for a long while before she joined the group. She came to see to Bilbo’s safety in part. She saw in him what we couldn’t at first.”

“When did you know that you loved her?”

“That first night in Bag End,” Fíli answered. “She had opened the door and it was like something finally clicked, like I had been missing something my entire life. From what’s she’s said, it was the same for her.”

“Much like when I met your mother.” Víli looked out over the valley. “Your mother...will she be happy to see me?”

“Happy is a little bit of an understatement. She has missed you every day, Adad. She masked the pain well but she missed you dearly. Uncle always said a part of her died when you did. She never remarried, never took a lover that I know of. There were offers, plenty of them. She denied them all and Thorin stepped in to inform everyone that a political marriage would not be done. Dwalin offered to marry her once, step in for us as a father, but Amad knew he had his own love, even if Dwalin claimed that his lover would understand.”

“Pft, Nori?” Fíli looked at his father oddly. “Balin and I may have talked about the two of them. Nori would have understood Dwalin’s commitment to family but it would have hurt him to see Dwalin do that. Your mother would have never allowed it.” Víli ate his sandwich lazily. “Tell me about your brother.”

“Kíli’s a little pain in my butt but I wouldn’t trade him for anything. He’s a bowman and a good one. There’s a reason he gets along with the elves as well as he does. You know that portrait Amad has of her, Uncle Thorin, and Uncle Frerin?”

“The one in the antler frame?”

“That one. Kíli looks a lot like Uncle Frerin in that portrait but a smaller nose and no beard really. Little scruff.”

“He’s a bowman, he wouldn’t have a long beard.”

“He hasn’t grown one in.”

“He’s lying,” Víli replied. “Even a short beard would catch in the drawstring. He trims it but he does it in secret.” Víli scratched at his own beard, it was long but it also had been a while since he had wielded a bow. “I used to do it as well. Guess those days are over.”

“I could build you a crossbow, Adad.”

“Those are bit bulky,” Víli replied. “It’s fine, Dashat. I know how to use a sword just as well.” Fíli let out a huff even as he started plotting what he was going to design. It would take him a few weeks between his other tasks but he could do it. “Fíli I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, your brother, and your mother.”

“Adad.”

“No, Dashat, listen please.” Víli let out a sigh and looked out over the valley again. “Thorin and I had both agreed that one of us should be home with Dís while the other was out on a caravan, but that trip, he needed another advisor on the trip and Balin had caught sick. Dwalin and Balin stayed behind to watch over you and your mother and I went with Thorin instead. I left you boys without a father. I cannot tell you how sorry I am.”

“Adad.” Fíli’s hand rested on his father’s shoulder. “I know how sorry you are, I see it every time you look at me. It wasn’t your fault. We all have a job to do and you were doing yours. I can’t blame you for that. I am just glad you’re here now. I love you Adad.” Fíli pulled his father in for a hug. They sat there for a while holding each other.

* * *

Tevrom looked at the quarters he had been put in. Bifur had chosen quarters that bordered Bofur’s whose rooms bordered Bombur’s larger rooms. The place was basically furnished now, not much for homey touches.

“Master Tevrom?” He turned around to see the elf, Beriadis, standing there. “It’s time for your exercises.”

“Aye lass.” He put the small basket on the table. She looked at the basket, small cubes of wood sat inside with a special knife.

“Are you a toymaker like your husband?”

“Aye, though not as talented. I was thinking about carving some of our happier memories and putting them around our rooms.”

“I think that’s lovely.” She looked around the rooms with a critical eye. “What about some art on the walls? A mural?”

“Never had the talent for murals, Mistress Elf.” He pointed to the large uninterrupted common room wall. “If I did, I’d do that wall there with flowers. Bofur told me Bif likes to eat more greenery now but he loved flowers even before.”

“That I may be able to help with. Do you know if there is a paint that would work well on stone?” Beriadis inquired.

“Aye.”

“If you would like, I am a fair hand with a paint brush.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I would greatly enjoy helping you surprise your husband.” Tevrom beamed at her. Bifur would love the wall by the time they were done.

* * *

Sigrid pulled her hair back and wrapped it in a tight bun. Nori gave her a nod before flipping a practice blade, dull and made of a hard rubber, toward her handle first. She took it, gripping it like she’d seen Freye do a few times. Nori tsked before adjusting her grip.

“Freye knows her weapons and uses advanced grips. This is just to train you how to use them.”

He pulled out his own practice blade and showed her the grip. He walked her through the basic motions with a knife, how to hold it for different attacks, and how to pull it from a concealed space quickly. After a few hours of basic training, they began mock fighting each other. He would correct her grip or stance as they grappled, rubber blades placed at killing marks. By the end of the day, Sigrid just wanted to collapse.

“Next week we will do all that with an actual blade,” Nori told her. “Tomorrow meet me back here and bring your sister. For now,” Nori pulled out a blade he had hidden somewhere, Sigrid wasn’t sure where, and offered it and the sheath to her, “take this. While almost all of the dwarrows in the mountain are loyal to Thorin, it would be best if you had some sort of protection. There are still those among the Men that would seek to do you harm.”

“Thank you Master Nori.”

“My pleasure Princess.” He cracked his back as they walked toward the edge of the training room. “You know of my title as Spymaster, yes?”

“Balin has made me aware, yes.”

“It is tradition that the Spymaster reports to the queen or the consort of Erebor to relieve some of the pressure of the king. As your people are still under the mountain, I will extend that courtesy to you as well. Your father is an inspirational leader but there will always be those who resent those in power.”

“Thank you Nori.”

“My pleasure lass. I’ve also taken one of your lasses under my wing. She’s running the tunnels right now. When she is properly trained up, I will introduce her to you. It will be best if you have you own spymaster in Dale.”

“Does my father know?”

“I did inform him and Thorin I took on an apprentice who could see to Dale’s security.”

In the tunnels above the training chamber, the apprentice chuckled before dashing away to the southern markets. She had a troublesome butcher to monitor.

* * *

The tunnels in the heart of the mountain were not widely used by dwarrow, man, or elf, but a single guard still stood by the door. Bofur nodded to Thorin as his king approached with his brother-in-law and brother in tow.

“No activity,” Bofur told him. “It’ll probably be Nori sitting here when you get out.”

“Thank you Bofur. How are the doors going along?”

“Slowly. Magic that complex takes time,” Bofur told him. “It would be faster if we were putting a new door into the chamber but having to craft doors that will fit perfectly takes more time.”

“I appreciate your commitment.”

Frerin glanced at Víli behind Thorin’s back and just shrugged. Thorin was allowed to have his secrets even if they were about to be revealed.

The door opened with a decent shove. Thorin beckoned the pair inside and left the door cracked. The doors in place cut the chamber off from hall that joined with the main hall. They wanted the chamber protected and the best way to do that was to hide the chamber and the main doors. Bofur had started working on the doors soon after the battle, first researching the old spells they would need and now actually working with stone.

“I remember this room,” Frerin said. “It was a garden but it did not look like this.” He stared around at the clear and multicolored branches and roots that spread through the room. “Thorin?”

“Do you recognize this?” Thorin’s hand laid on the trunk of the crystal tree just above the colorful gem that sat in its heart. Frerin’s breath drew short.

“The Arkenstone.”

“Aye. We returned it to the mountain,” Thorin told them. “The Arkenstone is actually a Seed-Stone, a gift to the Hobbits from Mahal and Yavanna. It grows these separate stones.” Víli looked at the stone that Thorin touched, it hung from a branch. “They are Laying-Stones. They have the ability to grow a new life inside them. They were used when it was dangerous for Hobbits to carry their children within them and when couples struggled to have children.” He drifted to the largest of the stones. “This one started to grow when Bilbo planted the Arkenstone. Freye examined it, it has life within it. These marks, the colors, they are mine and Bilbo’s.”

“You’re going to be a father,” Víli realized.

“Aye. Bilbo and I have already spoken, Fíli is still my heir,” Thorin told them. “If Bilbo and I fall before they are of age, I ask that the two of you see to their health. Please.”

“Nadad you don’t have to ask,” Frerin told him. “We will do our best.”

“Picked out a name yet?” Víli asked.

“No, not yet.”

“We’ll help you make a list,” Víli promised. Thorin rolled his eyes and let the pair wander around for a bit before they left for supper.

* * *

Frerin knocked nervously on his older brother’s door. Thorin’s call to enter made him smile. His brother was alive and well. Every time he saw Thorin was like a gift.

“Frerin, what can I help you with?” his brother asked.

“What do you know of Brynye’s family, the side that’s not the Urs.”

“Very little. I know that her mother was a Longbeard. I have looked at Freye’s beads, she carries her great grandmother’s bead with her, and I know I have seen the marks on it before but I haven’t been able to remember.”

“I think I do,” Frerin replied. “Do you remember, after we met Brynye, the night Sigin’adad sat us down and showed us a symbol, an old crest?”

“Had a dragon on it, right?”

“Aye. I don’t remember all that he said but I remember that symbol. It is the same symbol on Brynye’s bead.”

“Which means her family was close with ours.” Thorin sat down on his bed. “There is an old text in my study, I will have to find it, that contains the crests of important lines. I will find it and review it. Perhaps the answer lies there. Thank you for helping me remember, Naddith.” Frerin smiled a bit before hugging his brother goodnight. “Frerin?”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you sleep here tonight? Can be like old times.” The younger smiled brighter and dove under the covers. Thorin just gave a wider smile and ruffled his brother’s hair. Things would be all right, they had to be.


	15. 1-12-2942, Erebor

1-12-2942, Erebor

Dwalin was on guard detail as Thorin arrived at the ArkenTree (Bofur named it) with Freye and Kund in tow. Kund helped his master to her feet before settling beside Dwalin and sneaking one of the biscuits the guard kept on him for a snack.

“The tree is expanding,” Freye told him as they walked in. She walked to the center, fingers running over the limbs and coming to a rest on the heart of the tree. “I can feel it more as I walk through the mountain. It’s growing.”

“There have been sightings of vines weaving through houses, a branch extending out of the stone. No one dares to cut them. I’ve given a royal decree that they are to be left alone and that is the heart of the mountain healing the mountain.”

“They should not cut them,” she agreed. “She grows to expand her seed capacity but also to deliver them I am almost certain of that. The old legends said that Seed-Stones would weave their way through a community and branches would pop up in homes and gardens where couples who desired children lived.”

“How is the health of the tree?”

“Very good. Yavanna has blessed it and I believe Mahal as well. I can feel the interweaving.”She tilted her head. “Something is growing, another presence.” She turned around to look at the branches that hung from the ceiling. She inched over to a branch near the door. It seemed to be reaching, running beside the guard post outside. A laying-stone hung from it, the size larger than most of the others. She put her hand on it and it warmed. “Thorin who else has been inside recently?”

“Dwalin,” Thorin called out. The dwarrow came inside, ax ready if needed. “Who else has come inside the chamber recently?”

“Nori and I sat among them the other night,” Dwalin answered.

“Talking about the future?” Freye guessed. Dwalin gave a nod. “Kund.” The warg perked up. “Fetch Nori.” He took off with great bounds. “Come here, Irak’adad.” She looked at Dwalin as she spoke and he approached her. She took his hand and placed it on the stone. It warmed and glowed gently under his touch. “Thought so.”

“What does that mean?” Dwalin asked.

“Wait until Nori is here,” she told him. It didn’t take long for Nori to arrive. He slipped in with only a small bit of panic in his eyes. “Nori, put your hand beside Dwalin’s please.” He did and the stone pulsed light before settling into a steady glowing warm color. Freye could see the marks now on the stone, an ax and a concealed dagger crossing in rings about the stone. The colors of the stone reminded her of Nori’s hair and Dwalin’s tattoos.

“Means what I think it does, doesn’t it?” Thorin asked her.

“It does.”

“Congratulations Dwalin, Nori, you’re going to be fathers,” Thorin informed them. The two shared a look before looking at Freye.

“The tree heard your desires for the future. Congratulations,” she told them. “Come on, Nu’adad. I think we should leave the expectant fathers to celebrate don’t you?”

Thorin’s chuckles echoed behind the pair as they left. Dwalin looked back at Nori with hope in his eyes. Nori reached forward, caught Dwalin by the back of the head, and pulled him down to kiss. It was a good think Dwalin’s shift had only started, no need to scar the next one on shift and all that.

* * *

Fíli jerked up as he was punched in the chest. He looked to the side to see Freye desperately fighting something in her dreams. The scream the followed the next hit to collide against him was loud enough to surely wake the other inhabitants of the royal wing. The blond prince called for her, hands wrapping around her wrists as he tried desperately to coax her out of the dream.

“Fíli! NO!”

His heart nearly stopped.

The door to their chambers was thrown open. Thorin led the way with Frerin and Víli not far behind. Dwalin, his quarters just outside the royal family’s chambers, was next in the room with Nori.

“She’s going to hurt herself,” Thorin said. “Dwalin. Nori.” Dwalin wrapped his big bear arms around the dwarrowdam while Nori forced Fíli to step to the side. Víli held his son as Thorin sat on the bed. Nori caught her legs before she could kick anyone.

“She’s deep in a night terror. She’ll not know what is real and what is her mind betraying her,” Dwalin told him.

“Agreed. Be ready,” Thorin told him. He put his hands on her cheeks, holding her firm. “Freye. Freye you’re safe. You’re in Erebor with us. You’re safe.”

“Fíli no! Someone help him please!” she screamed.

“I’m right here love, right here,” Fíli called.

“Let me try Thorin,” Nori said. They switched spots, Nori hands coming up to rest on her shoulders. “Freye, Freye it’s Nori.”

“N-Nori?”

“Yes lass. Where are you?”

“Trolls.” She sobbed harder. “They threw Fíli. He’s not getting up! You have to help him!”

“Freye he’s safe. He’s right here. Fíli squeeze her hand.” He lunged forward and took her hand. He squeezed it gently, his other hand coming up to stroke her arm. “See, right there.”

The terror broke. Freye’s eyes snapped open and she lunged toward Fíli, arms wrapping tight around him as she sobbed into his shoulder. Dwalin patted her on the back, supporting her weight until Fíli had pulled her into his arms. Nori and Thorin backed away slowly.

“I’ll get some of Dori’s tea,” Nori said. “Common room?”

“That’ll be for the best,” Thorin replied. Fíli picked his wife up while Thorin pulled the heavy blanket off the bed and followed them into the common room. Víli and Frerin propped up a pillow against the arm of the couch and helped Fíli sit down. He laid across the couch and encouraged Freye to wrap herself around him. Thorin laid the blanket over them, tucking it in around them.

Nori returned with a tray. There were several cups and one of the larger tea kettles. He poured enough tea for the whole group before handing them out. Freye sniffled as she took the cup and sipped.

“Sorry I woke you all,” she mumbled.

“Night terrors are nothing to be ashamed of lass,” Dwalin reassured. “I get them. It’s part of being a warrior.”

“Thanks Dwalin.”

The group sat in companionable silence for a while. After two cups of tea, Freye was calmer but sleep evaded them still. Thorin was the one to start humming. Dwalin smiled at the tune while Víli and Frerin looked a bit confused. Fíli joined his uncle in humming and that was enough to convince Freye to start singing.

“Land of bear and land of eagle,” she sung softly. “Land that gave us birth and blessing / Land that called us ever homeward / We have come across the mountains.” Dwalin laughed gently when she changed the words. Nori curled up on Dwalin’s lap listening.

Balin found them hours later, the dwarrows spread about the common room sleeping with blankets draped over them and Kund on watch. He closed the door again and cleared their schedules for the morning.


	16. 1-24-2942, Erebor

1-24-2942, Erebor

“You’re an amazing artist Ori,” Fíli commented. The scribe grinned a bit as he filled out the sketch, periodically picking up the bead of Brynye’s mother. He had started sketching last night and the last details were coming together now.

“Do you really think you can find who the family was?” Freye asked.

“Certainly. There are documents of unnamed father lines,” Ori told her. “It shouldn’t take long, especially with the mother’s family named. I think I know this symbol actually.” He pointed to the female’s line. “The other is familiar but I don’t know from where. Might take me a while between all my tasks but I’ll figure it out.”

“No rush Ori, promise,” Freye told him.

“No rush on what?” Thorin walked in with a cup of tea in hand. “Ah, the bead. May I look Ori?” The scribe handed over the paper and Thorin examined the details critically. “If you have difficulties finding the father’s line let me know Ori. There are some texts in my personal library concerning secondary lines to noble families.” Ori gave him a nod before relaxing to eat his breakfast alongside the others.

Thorin departed for his study to do some necessary paperwork but also to look something up. He put his drink down on his desk and touched a button on the side of his desk. A drawer appeared and he pulled the thick tome from inside.

_Royal Lines of Erebor_

He set the book down and flipped through the entries. He needed one of the newer entries and it took a bit to flip through the old book to find it. The entries were written in his great-grandfather’s script. Dáin the First had taken care in detailing the family beads outside of those given to his sons.

> _**Deri daughter of Isolri, Keeper of the family of Dáin I,** _ _**C**_ _ **onsort of the** _ _**K**_ _ **ing** _ _**Dáin I** _ _**.** _
> 
> _**Daughters:** _
> 
> _**Isolde the Raven Wanderer, born Third Age 2610. T.A**_ _ **. 2733-** _ _**Married to Fifur son of Themur, line from the Broadbeams of Moria. TA** _ _**.** _ _**2735-Royal messengers report birth of a daughter with raven black hair and Durin blue eyes. TA** _ _**.** _ _**-2737- Royal messengers sent to Blue Mountains after disappearance of Isolde and Fifur on caravans traveling east. Isolde and Fifur killed in 2736 by Men while returning to the Blue Mountains. Daughter, Brynye, reported missing. She was not found among the bodies. The brothers of Fifur** _ _**\--** _ _**Franur and Lagur** _ _**\--** _ _**were spoken to but not informed of Isolde’s rank as she would have wished.** _
> 
> _**Fori the Ruby Lady, born Third Age 2640. T.A** _ _**.** _ _**2700-Keeper of the house of Brigon. T.A** _ _**.** _ _**-** _ _**2745** _ _**Farin discovered Brigon’s abuse against Fori and impregnation. The baby, Lori, was born healthy and well loved in the house of Farin where Fori now resides as an aide for Farin. Brigon’s line has been dishonored, stripped of title and wealth and given to Fori as recompense, and Brigon’s execution held.** _

There were no further details, Smaug’s arrival would have prevented that. However, Thorin did know who Lori and Fori were. He could remember Fori, a strong presence at Farin’s side and a guiding hand in his older years. Lori had been a small shadow following her mother around. When Smaug came, Thráin had sent them to his cousin Náin in the Iron Hills for safe keeping. It would be years later that he would encounter Lori again, chasing a young Nori around the Blue Mountains while pregnant with Ori. She had said little to him but he had kept tabs since then, the memories of a young Lori coming back to him. When she had passed, he had seen to it that Balin had taken Ori as an apprentice when he came of age after noticing what a bookish lad he was. Young Ori had been something of a playmate for Fíli and Kíli, sent to Dís on days where Dori would be too busy in the shop and Nori was Mahal knows where.

He should have remembered Lori had a connection to the line of Durin earlier. He knew she was of a unnamed line, it was common gossip around the mountain as to which Durin had fathered her line, but he had never bothered to look it up. Now he could remember Thrór sitting him and Frerin down shortly after meeting Brynye during his one of his more lucid periods.

“ _Lads, I have a secret to tell you.” He settled them down by the hearth and looked them over. “You have great aunts, two of them.”_

“ _We’ve never met them,” Frerin objected._

“ _You have met one and,_ _i_ _f I am right, you have met the daughters of both. Lads, when we reclaim our home, when we are a proud people again, I ask that you search them out.” He took a bead out of hair and handed it over to Thorin. “That is the adoption bead forged by my father to show that their mother, Deri the Consort of Dáin I, was just as much a mother to my brothers and me as she was mother to our sisters. Keep that bead Thorin. Keep it and remember to find them once more.”_

The bead was with Dís in the small chest Thorin had kept the most precious of the family’s heirlooms.

The door creaked open and Balin stepped in.

“Have you got today’s papers ready?” he asked.

“No Balin, I am sorry. I was distracted.” He motioned to the old tome. Balin would have seen it once or twice, only as a reminder of where their family’s history book was kept. Thorin had added details to his entries, Dís’ entries, and Frerin’s entries. “I know who Brynye’s mother was.”

“Oh?”

“Isolde, daughter of Deri and Dáin I, sister of Fori, grandmother of Dori, Nori, and Ori.”

“Mahal’s beard.”

“A line returned,” Thorin mused. “I wish to acknowledge their line and have them honored properly. Can you arrange the papers?”

“It will take some time without Ori helping me. I presume that’s what you wanted done.”

“Aye.”

“Fíli and Freye?” Thorin took out a scrap of paper and did a few quick calculations.

“They are far enough removed I do not worry about heirs, less than a percent of shared blood between them. Besides, Freye’s hobbit blood should put in variation in their line that they will be safe.”

“How did you find out Thorin?”

“Ori was sketching the bead and it finally occurred to me where I knew it from. Also, Frerin remembered Grandfather telling us about a bead like that. It finally occurred to me what he had been talking about.”

“When will you tell them?”

“I will wait until Ori makes the discovery. He and his brothers should come to terms with the discovery on their own and make a decision from there.”

* * *

Nori slipped into the office that Fíli and Freye shared. Freye was working at the table, sorting papers it seemed, and merely held out a mug of ale upon his approach.

“News?” she inquired.

“There are three Men planning on usurping Bard upon their return to Dale or during the reconstruction efforts.”

“Have you told Sigrid yet?”

“I just came from her.”

“And she said?”

“She would alert her father. I suggested banishment.”

“That’s a death sentence as it stands now.”

“Is that really that bad?” Nori countered. Freye laughed a little. “I would suggest talking with them. It would not be good for Bard to face such opposition now..”

“I agree. Have your shadows keep eyes on them. If they move to act against Bard, I sanction lethal action. Hopefully I can convince Bard and Sigrid to deal with them before. I'll let Thorin know tonight. He's been quite calm about the darker side of all this.” She sat back in her chair as he sat on the edge of her desk. “So, you and Dwalin planning a wedding yet?”

“We are actually.” He put the now empty mug down. “We agreed to wait until the caravan arrives. He wants Dís here and I am fine with that. As it stands, Dori is fine with us residing together before the wedding; we’ve been living together on and off for years so it’s not that big of a change.”

“Did you tell the others about the babe?” she asked.

“Just our brothers,” Nori answered. “Dori nearly lost his mind and Ori has taken to knitting blankets and clothes before bed. Balin had to sit down for a while. I think we surprised him.”

“You’ll be a good father Nori, even if you still drive half the mountain crazy.”

“That’s actually in my job description. I made sure Thorin wrote that in. I wanted the right.”

“Of course you did. See you later Nori.” He gave her a smile before heading out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! Before I get one, "Cousins shouldn't marry!" crap, I did take the time to do the math and it is less than 1% shared genetics between Fíli and Freye. Their common ancestor is four times removed meaning they would share somewhere around 1/16 of DNA. To put this into perspective, that would be the same amount shared between Nori and Dwalin in my little family tree. In canon family tree, that's the same amount shared between Dwalin, Balin, Glóin, and Óin and their respective counterparts Thorin, Frerin, and Dís. So, if anyone ships Dwalin/Dís (I've seen it and happen to think it's cute), Dwalin/Thorin, or any other freaking combination between the two sides, they have the same genetic sharing as Freye and Fíli so you can get over yourselves. 
> 
> Also, do you know how hard it has been not to spill the "Ri Brothers are related to Freye" thing this whole series? Seriously. I had that written before most of this freaking series. Literally, I have a document that explains the whole family tree. 
> 
> Last note: Isolde is the Raven Wanderer because she is always wandering and she has ravens following her around. She also has dark hair. Fori is the Ruby Lady because she is where the Ri Brothers get their reddish hair from. 
> 
> Speaking of that tree, Deri is a Keeper of Dáin's family. I made this up completely. In fact, Dáin wouldn't have been alive in canon but I had done a crap ton of work and didn't want to try to rework it, plus his sons would have been so young to be taking the throne. So, until I post the document that has a greater backstory, this is what you get: Dáin led his people back from the Grey Mountains after the drakes of the north attacked, killing his wife and one of his sons. Thrór and Grór survived but were still underage. Dáin I is having a very hard time raising two sons, relocating his people, and defending the Lonely Mountain. One of his advisors suggests he gets someone to help out since he can't get another wife (royal protocol or some BS, I have it that Dáin's marriage was more political than marrying for love). A Keeper is almost like a governess, nanny, housekeeper, and mother mixed into one person. Her job is literally to see that the children are raised, make sure they are educated, provide companionship to the head of the house (nothing sexual, just talking and comfort). Dáin and Deri remain as King and Keeper for some time before Dáin suggests evolving their relationship. He is older, she is younger. She says she's happy without searching for a family since she has his boys to treat as her own. He suggests she become consort, though not his married wife because the council would never approve, and they do. They have two girls. Grór is sort of just blah about his sisters but he loves them. Thrór recognizes the position that they are in and does his best to look out for them but some miscommunications happen and shit just goes down hill from there. There will be, eventually, a prequel post put up to explain that mess.


	17. 2-10-2942, Hobbiton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know how big the family tree of the Baggins/Took family is? Do you? I remember, a few months ago when this was originally drafted, spending well over two hours clicking through, calculating ages at certain dates, relationships and taking notes. Just holy crap.

2-10-2942, Hobbiton

The arrival of a caravan of elves, dwarrows, men, and a single hobbit was quite the sight as they entered Hobbiton. Tongues started wagging the moment they were spotted and more than one of Bilbo’s neighbors had run off to spread the news. Bilbo had tried to prevent such a spectacle but those with him had insisted on seeing him safely to Bag End and helping him pack and deal with his affairs. Some were obvious, Kíli, Tauriel, and Bifur were givens. Legolas had been a surprise until he mentioned that Kíli and Bifur had talked about Bilbo’s troublesome relatives. Bain told Bilbo that Bard had instructed him to stay with the Hobbit during the whole trip–Bilbo knew Bard had actually said to stay with the group and behave but arguing with a stubborn teenager would get him nowhere , he'd learned that lesson already —and where Bain went, his three fellow Esgaroth boys followed: Malcolm, Ragnar, and Iwar. Where those three lads went, Thorin Stonehelm was not far behind. More than once Bilbo had shouted across the camp for Thor and the Four Delinquents, occasionally that was changed to the Durin Duo and the Four Delinquents when Kíli joined in. Tauriel was of no help most of the time, she followed Kíli around and got into mischief with him. Sometimes Legolas was able to get her to stop acting childish but more often than not Bilbo ended up minding four Men, two Dwarrows, and two Elves. Kíli told him it was practice for when the baby came.  Bilbo just remarked that his newest nickname for them was the Great Alliance to Destroy Bilbo's Sanity.

The only others to accompany them into Hobbiton were two dwarrows, Nilron and Flef, and two elves, Nedion and Forodon. The rest of the caravan, about twenty elves, dwarrows, and men, had remained just outside of Bree to prepare for the return trip. They would come to Hobbiton with wagons the week before they were set to leave. It was lucky that winters were mild in the Shire and camping outside of Bree was possible. 

“Mister Bilbo!” Hamfast Gamgee called from one of the yards as they rode into town. “You’re back! Traveled in the winter did you? How’d you get through the mountains?” 

“With the help of my friends here,” Bilbo answered. “It’s good to see you Hamfast. Are Drogo and Brynye at the smial? We sent one of our ravens ahead and it didn’t return.” 

“They’re up there and the raven arrived yesterday while I was working in the garden. Mistress Brynye has it set up outside the house to rest. She just returned from Bree earlier this week with some of her and Miss Freye’s belongings. Mister Drogo hasn’t left the house other than to go to the market since your first letter reached us. The Sackville-Baggins have been causing quite a bit of trouble Mister Bilbo. You should hurry up there now. I saw Lobelia and Otho headed up there to cause trouble again. She keeps trying to claim that your letters are forged by the dwarves you left with!” 

“That utter vile troll,” Bilbo growled. “Thank you Hamfast. I will see you and your family for supper, the whole of it. We’ll do a right feast to celebrate our arrival.” 

“Right you are Mister Bilbo. I’ll go tell Ma to make some pie!” Hamfast called as the riders continued on their way to the smial. 

Bilbo jumped from his pony as they neared the gate, tossing his reins over to Legolas as he did so. It was not the first time that he had done this one the road and Legolas caught them with ease, wrapping the reins around his pommel before dismounting and handing his reins to Nedion. Kíli did a similar maneuver with Tauriel and followed at Bilbo’s heels as he slammed the gate open to the garden, though it was not heard over Lobelia’s bickering. Drogo caught sight of his cousin as he came up the steps with Brynye slowly bringing out a frying pan from behind her back, a proper hobbit weapon if there ever was one. 

“Lobelia Sackville-Baggins!” The other hobbit spun around shocked to see Bilbo alive and well. “How dare you do this? My papers are in order. If I had died the smial would have been Freye’s or Drogo’s, not yours. Your constant harassment of me and mine has gone on far too long. Just because I refused to sleep with you unlike Otho and give you the nicest smial in Hobbiton does not mean you get to try and steal it from others. Now get off my property before I do something I most likely won’t regret you heartless harpy!” 

Brynye and Drogo looked at Bilbo with a new sense of wonder. Who would have thought that their proper gentlehobbit would finally snap? 

Otho, on the other hand, looked as livid as Bilbo as he squared his shoulders and turned toward his cousin. “How dare you talk to my wife like that,” Otho snapped. For once in Otho’s long life he had decided to grow a spine, a surprising action if there ever was one. Everyone in Hobbiton knew that Lobelia ruled the Sackville-Baggins home. “Apologize and I won’t bringing it up with Aunt Belba!” 

“How dare you talk to the Prince Consort as you do,” Kíli said. He moved to stand behind his hobbit uncle and rested a hand on his sword. 

The Sackville-Baggins looked at him as he towered behind Bilbo. To make things worse for the two hobbits, Tauriel and Legolas had come to stand behind the dwarven prince. Thor and Bain stood at the bottom of the steps to Bag End, each with a hand on their weapons. Bifur picked up a nice sized rock and mentioned playing a game of conkers with Iwar who had come to enjoy learning the game from Bilbo and had heard all the stories about a conker to the head from the hobbit. 

Kíli put his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder as he spoke, “You dare to insult my uncle, the husband of my king, Thorin Oakenshield King of Erebor? You dare to insult Lord Baggins, one of the greatest heroes from the Battle of the Five Armies? You dare insult the wordsmith that went up against a dragon and lived? If you were dwarrows I would have you shaved and cast out for your insolence.” 

“Now you see here young man,” Lobelia started. 

“Mind your words, Mistress Sackville-Baggins,” Legolas warned. “This is Prince Kíli of Erebor that you address. I am Prince Legolas of the Greenwood and this is Lady Tauriel of the Wandering Clan of Erebor and adopted kin to Freye Took and Bilbo Baggins. The dwarrow there with the stone,” he motioned to Bifur, “is Lord Bifur of Erebor, cousin of Freye and Brynye Took, and he has no problem defending Bilbo’s honor from the likes of you. Even Prince Bain,” here he motioned to the young lady, “will gladly act on his behalf. So please do continue with your insults.” 

The pair of hobbits realized they were out classed and ran off in fear, Lobelia shouting that the Thain would hear about this. Drogo’s laughter chased his cousin and his wife down the road, the dark haired hobbit having to bend over and grab his knees he was laughing so hard. He caught his breath enough to step down to Bilbo and pull him in for a powerful hug. Brynye bowed to Kíli but he shook his head and pulled her in for a hug. 

“You’re family,” he told her. “Fíli and Freye didn’t want to send word by Raven but they have married, so do not bow to me, please. They married in the old hobbit tradition around a fire but Thorin made them promise to have a dwarven wedding as well.” 

“I look forward to it. Does that explain Prince Consort Bilbo Baggins as well?” Brynye teased. 

“Indeed it does.” Brynye rolled her eyes as Kíli turned back to Bilbo. “Uncle, where can the rest of us seek shelter? There is an inn in Hobbiton, yes?” 

“You stubborn dwarrow, as if I would turn you away. With the rest of the caravan in Bree, we should all fit in Bag End. It might be uncomfortable for you taller folk but it’ll work out nicely. The horses will need stabling at the Green Dragon though.” 

Legolas took in the orders and shouted for Nedion and Forodon to take their horses down the Green Dragon, which Drogo quickly gave him directions to, and see that they were housed. Nilron and Flef received the same instructions from Thor. Bain and his lads removed the saddlebags and packs from the mounts and put them inside the yard to move into the house. 

Bifur weaved around elves and hobbits to reach his cousin, his head bumping hers as he hugged her. She held him back just as tight. 

“I feared for you all,” she whispered. “Freye? Bofur? Bombur?” 

“They are well enough. Bombur and Bofur came out of the battle with little more than scraps and bruises. Freye was a little worse but she’s recovering now. She broke her leg defending Fíli. She should be healed by the time of our return.” 

“That is all I can ask for.” 

Everyone grabbed saddlebags and packs to carry into the house. Bain and Malco l m moved items around the smial by order of Brynye while Ragnar and Iwar helped Bilbo get linens from the closet. Legolas and Tauriel stored the food they still carried into the larder while Kíli helped Drogo move an extra length of table into the dining room for supper. It would be a tight fit with Hamfast’s family coming for supper as well but the joyous occasion was well worth the tight quarters. While the weather in the Shire was relatively mild, it was too cool to hold a comfortable Hobbit style dinner party out in the garden. 

Drogo hoped he had made his cousin proud over the past year. When Bilbo called the group together, the elder hobbit clapped him on the shoulder and thanked him for his good job. 

“Now then,” said the hobbit, “we need more food for our supper tonight. Drogo be a good lad and take young Bain here and his friends—this is Malcolm, the unnecessarily tall one there is Ragnar, and the one with the hair as curly as any hobbit’s is Iwar, good lads even if they are too tall for their own good—and go to the market, would you? It is market day if my calendar is right. There’s fourteen from the company, two for you and Brynye, and there are the six from the Gammidge family—Hob and Iris, you’ll love, kindly folk they are, and their kids Andy, May, Halfred, and of course Hamfast but you’ve met him already--,” Bilbo said this to his other companions, “makes twenty-two. Multiple that by about two meals and three times the portion size and that should do it. Dwarrows eat like hobbits at a birthday celebration when they can and elves can pack away nearly as much as them. These lads though need plenty of food to continue growing. Saw Ragnar’s ribs the last time we bathed. Don’t try to hide that from me young man.” 

“Yes Lord Baggins,” the embarrassed teen said. 

“We’ll go now,” Drogo said. “We need baskets. Come on lads.” He led them into the larder and grabbed one for each of them before they headed off for the market. Young Halfred Gammidge, who had been home when his brother had returned and told his tale, took off up the row to see the group and was invited along with Drogo. Bain picked up the hobbit and carried him on his shoulder much to the amusement of the others. 

The settling of the smial and the baths of the company had just finished when the bell at Bilbo’s front door caught their attention. Bilbo answered it, having just finished hanging up cloaks, and pulled the door open to see his dear cousins Adalgrim and Flambard accompanying his uncle Isembold Took. The elderly Took still looked rather healthy as he sized up his nephew and eyed the dwarrows and elves that stuck their heads out from various doorways. 

“Uncle Isembold! Grim, Flam, it’s good to see you!” His cousins grave him a hugs before letting Isembold at their cousin. 

“A talking raven showed up at Fortinbras’ smial this morning, Nephew,” Isembold said curtly. “Good thing you sent a warning ahead, the Sackville-Baggins are storming up there now. How did you manage to anger Lobelia already?” 

“Just gave her a bit of her own medicine,” Kíli muttered from his doorway. Tauriel elbowed him and Brynye shook her head at their antics. 

“Come in, please,” Bilbo insisted. “I suppose it is tea time but we’ve been settling in and haven’t been able to make any.” 

“I’ll take care of it Cousin,” Brynye called as she crossed through the hallway. 

“My usual please Brynye,” Isembold called. 

“As if I would serve you anything different.” Her laughter trickled through the smial to the old hobbit's ears.

Bilbo slowly led his elderly uncle to a chair in the den with his cousins following soon after. Kíli, Tauriel, and Legolas stood in a nearby doorway. Bifur emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray of cookies and scones. Kíli stole a scone as he passed. 

“Fortinbras,” Isembold said as he sat down with a soft huff, “will be here this evening. He did not want his arrival to be unannounced. You’re lucky I was taking elvensies with him.” Isembold crossed his hands in his lap and leveled the trademark I-am-an-irritated-Took-parent look at Bilbo. “Lad, a talking raven?” 

“That would be my fault, Master Hobbit.” Kíli’s words brought the attention to himself. He lowered the scone he had been devouring in an attempt to look like a proper prince for a moment. The dwarrow bowed to the old hobbit.. “Prince Kíli at your service and your family’s. The Ravens of Erebor serve the royal family. There are a few that speak Westron fluently, most speak Khuzdul better. I brought the three that spoke Westron the best to communicate with Master Drogo and Mistress Took. While Mistress Brynye would understand one speaking Khuzdul, the Raven might encounter a hobbit before her. I will apologize for startling the Thain tonight.” 

“It’s fine lad. Fortin is more used to elves showing up or one of their falcons appearing at the smial. You just surprised him is all.” 

“Quite the peculiar company you’re keepin’, Cousin,” Flambard commented. Adalgrim elbowed him in the stomach causing his cousin to lowly curse and cough while attempting to regain the air stolen from him. There were several rude gestures exchange between the pair. “You hit harder than a mule.” 

“Boys.” The single word from their uncle, who had not even turned around to see what they were up to, brought them to order if only for the moment. “Now then, how long are you staying Bilbo? I am sure there are relatives that want to see you but I can see you’re changed. Unless I read your presentation wrong,” Isembold motioned to Bilbo’s braided hair and distinctly un-Hobbitish clothing, “you do not plan to stay long.” 

“We will be here for a few weeks, Uncle. I have to get my affairs in order and pack what I wish to take with me. We’re to meet a caravan of dwarrows from the Blue Mountains headed for Erebor.” Bilbo cleared his throat and shifted in his chair as his uncle’s gaze wore away his defenses. “I have to return there. I have a life there that I cannot and will not abandon. I have a husband to return to and we are expecting a child.” Legolas, who had not been told of the ArkenTree, lost his tea through his nose. Tauriel and Kíli were quick to sit the elf down and hand him napkins. 

“Pardon me, Master Baggins, but you are both males, yes?” Legolas asked. 

“Indeed,” Bilbo replied. He lifted the side of his shirt and brought out a small glowing stone that was strapped to his stomach. He held it toward Isembold who drew closer while Adalgrim and Flambard peered over their uncle’s shoulder. 

“Is that what I think it is, lad?” 

“It is a Laying-Stone. I’ve carried this one from the Seed-Stone that gifted it to us. Bifur, Kíli, and Tauriel are all carrying one as well. They need to be held against someone for heat and life energy until they are planted. They will need to be planted as soon as the frost clears. I intend to ask Fortinbras who should receive them.” Bilbo put the stone back in its straps. 

“Hobbits are grown from seeds?” Legolas asked. 

“No, lad,” Isembold said gently. “Lady Yavanna and her husband blessed us with Laying-Stones when we were not a people of fertility. Any pair of hobbits can bear a child through those stones,” Isembold explained. “It works with other races?” 

“It appears so. Mine hangs from the Seed-Tree. We only anticipated that it would heal the mountain but it brought many stones to life. Freye determined one bears life, mine and Thorin’s child.” 

“So our forever-bachelor cousin has finally fallen in love and is having a kid. Bilbo you never cease to amaze me,” Flambard teased. Adalgrim cuffed him on the back of the head this time. Brynye, who had just entered with tea, offered Adalgrim a spoon to hit his cousin with. He took it, bouncing it threateningly on his hand while watching Flambard with a look promising pain. 

Brynye placed the tea on the table and poured it out. She handed cups to the elves and to the dwarows. She looked at the younger Tooks but only Adalgrim took one, likely to keep from hitting Flambard. 

"Those two remind you of anyone?" Bifur asked Tauriel. She snorted softly into her tea and Legolas chuckled. Indeed, Fíli and Kíli were known for acting quite similar though perhaps this time Nori and Dori would be a better comparison. Dori was a menace with a spoon as young Kíli could attest to. 

"If he is already married then it is none of our business, Flambard," Isembold warned. "I would like to hear about him more before you leave. I am just glad you are happy; you haven't been in so many years." Isembold quickly finished his tea and stood up to leave. "I will talk with Fortinbras later, but I will be back to see you before you leave." 

"Of course, Uncle." 

"I will leave you to prepare. You have many guests, quite the party dear Bilbo. And our dear Thain is likely to box your ears for all the trouble you gave him." 

"He can try," Bilbo chuckled. "It was good to see you Uncle. Have a safe trip." 

The older hobbit just nodded along and followed his other nephews out of the smial. The rest of the group sat around the table for a few minutes to finish their tea. 

Tauriel broke the sentence and asked, "Thain?" 

"My cousin, Fortinbras," Bilbo answered. "The Thain is as close to a king as you will find in the Shire. He deals with outsiders and can raise an army if we're desperate. The different areas of the Shire have similar people in charge for emergencies, mostly hereditary positions just for the sake of convenience. His father, my uncle, only passed away a few years ago. He didn't serve long. Old Took, our grandfather, lived extraordinary long for a Hobbit." 

"So you are royalty of a sort," Legolas reasoned. 

"Oh, no, no, no. I am far removed. My mother would never have been Thain and I wouldn't have inherited it. I'm much more like the Sons of Fundin and the Sons of Gróin in this case, respectable higher class. My father's family owns a good spread here in Hobbiton as well. As the Baggins of Bag End, I oversee most of it. I have tenants and farms to see to. I'll have to pick a successor while we are here." 

"So Lord Baggings fits then," Kíli joked. "Considering their grandfather Farin was a Lord of Erebor when it fell." B i fur snorted and Brynye lightly slapped the back of her cousin's head. "So then, back to work?" 

"We need to whip up a spread even better than the one this quest began with," Bilbo said as he rose from his chair. 

"Can that be topped? Freye's not here to do all her wonderful cooking," Kíli bemoaned. 

"Who do you think she learned it from?" Brynye demanded. "Certainly not her father, Mahal bless him. He could barely boil water and Asta could whip up something on the road but failed at cooking when home. There's a reason I lived with them in Bree. The boys should be getting back soon enough so I'll start the prep work. Kíli, Bifur, we'll be needing the casks of ale from the cellar." 

"Can you make cookies?" Bifur asked. "The ones Dwalin adores?" 

"My Ma-Ta got him hooked on those when he was a wee dwarfling. It is still odd to see him so grown," Brynye chuckled. "Could hold the lad with one arm when I first met him." 

"Wait, you're older than Dwalin?" Kíli questioned. 

"Oh, aye. Older than Thorin too. Balin is older than me though," Brynye told him. Kíli seemed to be having a hard time processing that as Bifur dragged the prince out of the room. 

Drogo returned with the groceries not twenty minutes later. The feast they created was fit for a birthday celebration. The Gammidge family came over and Bilbo hugged them all. Iris gave him a large smile and promised to write down some of his favorite recipes before he left. Little Halfred and May wanted to know all about their adventure. Hamfast sat beside Kíli and Bifur as they spun many a tale before the ale and wine was served. 

The emergence of the alcohol lead to Drogo and Hobson challenging the elves and dwarrows to a lighthearted drinking contest. Hobson beat them all, though it was a near thing. Legolas could hold his drink the best of all the elves and Bifur had held the best out of the dwarrows. They had both fallen back to the dining room floor after three glasses of Hobson's privately distilled spirits on top of the considerable amount of ale and wine consumed by both . These same spirits were called weak by Bilbo much to the astonishment of the rest of his company. Kíli, head resting on Tauriel's lap as he slowly sobered up, said it shouldn't be possible that Hobbits could drink so heavily. 

"We sit around all winter in our smials, Kíli. The one thing there is to do is drink," Bilbo informed him. 

"Aye, and Mister Bilbo can out drink Da!" Andy Gammidge declared. "Watched him do that two winters ago." 

Nilron, who had not participated, looked over at the hobbit with a critical eye. "You can?" Bilbo smirked as he sipped his mug and nodded. "Remind me to put you up against Glóin. I can make a couple of coin for sure off that bet." Flef, who was quite drunk but had been pulled out of the challenge by Nilron some time earlier, dumped a water pitcher over his Nilron's head. 

"That's cheating! Won't let you do it!" He then slung himself over Nilron's back. "'Less you split the winnings with me, eh?" 

Brynye, sensing the impending fight, pulled Flef out of the room and put him to bed. 

There was a knock on the door, the festivities pausing for a moment. Even Bifur and Legolas looked up from their place on the floor, Iris between them giving them a old fashioned Hobbit remedy for too much alcohol (every tween did it at least once). Bilbo got to his feet and waved off the wary stares of his traveling companions. 

The moment Bilbo opened the door he was engulfed in a Fortinbras' infamous breath-taking hug and lifted clear off his feet. "Hello Cousin!" He set Bilbo down and looked the other hobbit over. He seemed satisfied with Bilbo's appearance. "You left without saying goodbye, quite rude my friend. Thank the Green Lady for Freye or else these past months would have been even worse with Lobelia and Otho dogging my steps nearly every day trying to declare you dead. Where is our wayward cousin?"

"She had to remain in Erebor. She would have preferred to make the journey but her injuries and commitments there made her remain. As it is, my own commitments in Erebor will force my swift return there. Much has changed, Fortin, much has changed." 

"Aye, I think it has." His eyes drifted to the braid in Bilbo's hair. " I only brought young Ferumbras with me. The wife is enjoying a night in," Fortinbras told Bilbo. He ruffled his son's hair. Bilbo could see a few of the Bounders outside his smial. 

"Bounders, Fortin?" 

"Wasn't sure what type of folk you had with you. According to Lobelia--"

"Lobelia is a lying hack and I will be glad to no longer suffer her presence soon," Bilbo muttered. "Brynye would you be so kind as to convince the Bounders to come inside before they catch a cold? I'm sure some of that spiced cider you have hidden in my cupboards would do the trick." 

"Did you say spiced cider Mister Bilbo?" one of the bounders asked. 

"Aye lad I did. If you come in out of the chill you're welcome to some of it." 

Four bounders hurried in the house and followed Brynye to the kitchen. She then found them places at the table and hurried young Ferumbras in as well. Bilbo looked back at Fortinbras with a raised eyebrow. 

"We can talk business in your study. First, a plate if you would?" Fortinbras requested. Tauriel handed Bilbo a plate and Bilbo passed it on. The she-elf put Kíli's head down on the pillow below her (the elves had found the floor more comfortable with some pillows, kept hitting their heads when on chairs) and followed Bilbo to the study at his motioning. She sat down in one of the chairs and watched the two hobbits square off a bit as they sat down. 

"Freye did not say what your quest was for, only that she had been hired as a scout and you had been hired for some other position. I'd like to know exactly what my cousins were getting up to if you don't mind." 

"I was hired as a burglar. They had need of someone light footed that a dragon would not have encountered. It was a quest for a home," Bilbo told him. "My dwarven companions sought out their home, the one they lost before either of us were born, Erebor. I was meant to obtain a symbol of the king's rule, something the other dwarrows would rally behind. Things didn't go quite as planned but Erebor was freed in the end." Bilbo set his his cup down next to his small dessert plate. Tauriel snuck a cookie off his plate, having forgotten hers in the other room. "Freye knew I would go and followed to insure my health. We were in the employ of King Under the Mountain Thorin Oakenshield." 

"I'm sure the entire story is more riveting than you make it out to be," Fortinbras commented. 

"Very much so. You received trade from the Blue Mountains, yes?" 

"We did. I spoke with a dwarf named Gimris. She informed me that you  and Freye had relayed our plight with their king and he sent orders to begin trade. We also had two caravans from the southern dwarf kingdoms. That was this Oakenshield's work?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, it's good to know you made powerful friends out there as my envoys. We also had a group of elves come through to trade on orders from Lord Elrond. We have not seen that type of trade with the elves since the days of your mother. Was that your doing as well?" 

"Freye's influence brought the elves here. She made quite the impression while we were there, several good friends." 

Fortinbras grabbed a roll from his plate, tearing it apart and using it to soak up the gravy on his plate. He had already eaten the meat before they began talking. "You mentioned commitments in Erebor for yourself and Freye. What commitments, Cousin?" 

"Marriages." Fortinbras put his roll down. 

"Truly? Well, tell me about them." 

"Playing the patriarch card, Cousin?" 

"Naturally. I'll look after the Took side of things and Ole Belba Baggins will take care of the Baggins side. She's coming around  the day after tomorrow to interrogate you. I wouldn't be surprised if more aunts or uncles did the same." 

"I am doomed then," Bilbo joked. "Freye has a good match in her husband, one of deepest love. They have been defending each other the entire trip and I've not seen such a pair of love struck fools in my life other than my delightful nephew Kíli out in the other room and Tauriel here." The redhead blushed. "They courted in the dwarven fashion but married by the old hobbit tradition of fire." 

"Really? That hasn't been used for generations," Fortinbras commented. "I would like to learn greater details later. For now, what is his name? I'll have it recorded in the family books."

"Crown Prince Fíli of Erebor, son of Princess Dís, nephew of King Thorin Oakenshield." 

"That is quite the match then. Pass along my congratulations when you see her again. What about yourself? You spoke of marriages, I assume the other is you. Who did you marry?" Fortinbras' inquiry went unanswered for a moment as Bilbo tried to think of the best way to inform his cousin. The other hobbit took a drink of his ale and reclined in his chair. "Some lord as well then? By Lobelia description, the bunch you left here with were quite rough looking, but that could have been the road. Can never tell class status among caravans, all so travel worn." 

Bilbo cleared his throat and answered, "Aye, hard to tell. Nearly every member of that company could trace their line back to the royal line, some closer than others clearly." He fiddled with the braid in his hair for a moment. "I married Thorin, the king. Fire wedding as well. We were facing a great battle, one that we might not return from, and while our courtship was short, I have never been as happy as I am in his presence." 

"A king?" Bilbo nodded at Fortinbras. "I think I need air." 

Fortinbras slumped over in his chair in a dead faint. Tauriel shouted for Brynye help as she slipped the hobbit to the floor and put a pillow under his head. The dwarrow was in the doorway quite quickly and knelt beside Fortinbras. The others came into the room as well, Kíli suddenly alert and sober. Hobson asked how he was sober and Kíli informed him that dwarrows processed alcohol quicker than most species, obviously not hobbits though, and had just drank a bit too fast. 

"What happened?" Kíli inquired. 

"I told him a married a king," Bilbo answered. It was Hobson's turn to faint, though his wife caught him and Kíli helped lower him to the ground while she shook her head. "By the Green Lady, I never thought this would happen." 

"You fainted at the description of Smaug," Kíli pointed out. 

"Yes but that was death, not a marriage announcement. Blast it, we'll have to talk about the rest later. Come on Kíli, help me get my cousin to bed." Kíli nodded and helped move Fortinbras to a bed. Nedion carried Hobson back to his smial for  Iris who promised to be by in the morning with scones for the whole company. 

It would certainly be an interesting stay in Hobbiton. 

Kíli sent a letter early the next morning detailing the previous night's events with Tauriel's help (she filled in the bits he was too drunk to remember). When his brother opened the letter at breakfast in Erebor weeks later, he laughed himself onto the floor before handing it to Freye who soon joined him. 


	18. 2-12-2942, Hobbiton

2-12-2942, Hobbiton

Bilbo kept a trained ear turned toward the front of the smial all morning as he went about his packing. Tauriel and Legolas had left to hunt and prepare meat and vegetables for their long journey back. Kíli and Bifur were helping pack boxes of things that Bilbo had labeled. He wasn't sure where the others were at the moment. There were too many tasks and too little time. 

The ringing of the doorbell made him stop. He heard Brynye answer the door and call for him. Time to face the music, Bilbo. 

It was worse than he could have imagined. Belba Bolger (formerly Baggins) stood besides his aunts Mirabella and Donnamira, the younger sisters of his mother. Oh hell, he had the aunts from both sides there to interrogate him. He was doomed. Might as well send Kíli back with his body, his aunts would surely kill him. 

"What have they been feeding you?" Belba demanded. "Look at you! Skinny! Haven't seen you that skinny since you were a tween."  She tutted as she pulled at his baggy shirt, one of his hobbit shirts and he hadn't bothered with a waist coat today. "I thought Freye went with you! She should have kept you fed." 

"We were short on supplies a time or two," Bilbo replied. 

"Short on supplies? It doesn't look like you've eaten seven meals a day since you left!" Mirabella barked. 

"Seven meals?" The trio of aunts turned to see Kíli standing there with a set of Bilbo's books in hand. "Bilbo why didn't you tell us?" 

"Rationing food was important, Kíli. It didn't do me any harm in the end, just leave it at that," Bilbo told him. 

"But Uncle," the young dwarrow began to reply, "that means you were starving yourself the whole trip." Kíli turned a little green and put the books to the side. "Thorin's not going to like this." 

"You will not be telling your uncle," Bilbo replied. "Kíli it is honestly fine." 

"Who's the lad?" Donnamira questioned. "Called you 'Uncle' didn't he? Come on laddie, you look like you need a good hug. Bilbo got twice the dose of stubbornness when he was born , don't you mind him ." Donnamira pulled the young dwarrow in for a hug, a good motherly hug. Kíli nearly melted into her arms.  He missed his mother dearly and the comforting touch of a mother was just what he needed after all these long months without her.  "That's a lad." 

"Aunties meet my nephew Kíli son of Dís. He is my husband's nephew and the brother-in-law to Freye," Bilbo informed the group.

"Isn't he cute?" Mirabella chuckled.  She pinched Kíli's cheek as she talked. "Must have ladies falling all over him with those looks, though he is a bit thin. You haven't been eating enough have you? Tut, tut, can't have that. Brynye, larder stocked?" 

"Had the lads run down to the market this morning," the elder dwarrow replied. "Kíli put those books away and then come to the kitchen. We can have a  luncheon a little early lads. Find Bifur and anyone else in the smial." 

The young dwarrow ran off before his cheek was pinched again. Bilbo pressed his palm to his forehead. His aunts just had to come and embarrass him didn't they?

"So then, you've married. Fortinbras said both you and Freye had. A year is barely enough time for a proper courting and I can't believe you were engaged since leaving the smial and it hasn't even been a year," Belba said as she looked at her nephew. "And if Belladonna told me anything about dwarves it's that their courting periods las t a good while longer than our own in most cases. Explain lad." 

"They're good matches," Brynye reassured the aunts. "I know both the dwarrows they married and their families. I would have objected on their behalves if I didn't think them good fits." 

"And Thorin wanted full rights for Freye and me if anything happened," Bilbo said. He sat down at the table as his aunts took over his kitchen, their stern stares forcing him to a chair. They knew his tactics. If he was cooking, he wouldn't talk. "We faced battle. There was no guarantee that we'd survive." 

"Some of us almost didn't," Kíli muttered as he walked in with Bifur following. Bilbo reached back and tugged Kíli to his side giving the young dwarf a hug. Bifur took a cup of tea that Brynye offered and sat down beside Bilbo. 

"Bifur, son  Franur, cousin of Brynye," the old tinker said in way of greeting, "at your service and your family's." 

"Cousin of Brynye makes you family enough," Mirabella informed him. "A battle? You were sent to steal something weren't you? And why were you stealing something in the first place? That's not becoming of a hobbit you know." 

"As if you didn't steal pies off windows as a child," Donnamira countered. 

"It was for a good cause," Bilbo reassured them. "I would rather not talk about the battle if you please." 

"Where's your cousin then? Fortinbras said she couldn't return," Belba countered. She was mixing some sort of dough on the table as she spoke. Mirabella had taken over the cutting boards and the stove. Donnamira was making something else with dough near the sink. 

"Her leg was broken in the battle," Kíli said. "Broken badly too. She won't be able to travel for a while still. Additionally, she is helping my uncle and brother with the restorations of Erebor. She's been processing new arrivals and organizing food from what the letters have said." 

"And helping with the returned from Dol Guldur," Bifur pointed out. "Bofur said she's been seeing to the mind healing of several dwarrows and a few men. They even brought two of the elves they found to the mountain for treatment." 

"Good to see she's using those skills," Mirabella commented. "Your brother and uncle lad? That the uncle that married Bilbo?" 

"Yes ma'am, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain." The silence as all three women stopped working was enough to put the three males on edge. 

"You married a king?" Belba demanded. 

"By the Green Lady, Belladonna must be laughing in her grave," Mirabella told her sister. 

"And Bungo shaking his head," Belba countered. "Laddie, kings aren't like the thain. They have bigger responsibilities, a hefty bit I'm sure you'll share as...well you can't be a queen so what are you then?" 

"Prince Consort," Bifur told her. "Though most of us call him Lord Baggins when we have to. He hates being called Prince Consort or Prince. Since he's also a land owning member of the Company, he's a Lord of Erebor, Lord of the Mushroom Mine in fact." 

"Mushrooms?" That caught Donnamira's attention. "Good ones?" 

"Over an acre, Auntie," Bilbo answered.  "I'll send you all gift baskets full and start trading them with the Shire." 

"That good then," Donnamira mused. "We'll have to strike a bargain later then. Now then, tell us about your king." 

Kíli spilled everything before Bilbo could get a word out. He didn't pull any punches with the relationship and Bilbo's aunts were taking it all in with laughs. Brynye patted Bilbo's shoulder reassuringly. 

"Sounds like quite the character, though I wish we had been there for the wedding," Belba huffed. "You're having another?" 

"A proper dwarven one, yes," Bilbo answered. "Princess Dís, Thorin's sister, has already been in contact about a date,  this Durin's Day, the start of the dwarven new year and of winter." 

"Hmm, what about Freye and her husband? What can you tell us there? You said he's this one's brother?" Mirabella pointed at Kíli who swallowed. "Look much like your brother, lad?" 

"More like my uncle, ma'am. Fíli is blond, got a proper beard and mustache, and is a bit bulkier than me but still rather skinny," Kíli answered. 

"Bifur could you get my book? I have some of mine and Ori's sketches in there." The older dwarrow went to the study and returned with it. He flipped through to a few pages containing sketches. He motioned to the one of Fíli. 

"They're going to have cute babies," Donnamira commented. Kíli choked on his tea. "So, your uncle is king. Makes the two of you princes then?" she asked the dwarrow. Kíli nodded as Brynye patted him on the back. "Freye 's a  princess then ?" 

"Aye, and a lady of Erebor," Bifur replied. "Leads a new clan, the Wanderers. Thorin had it created so that those without a clan or family can find one in Erebor. She's also where the non-dwarrows will go for housing and work." 

"Plenty of duties to attend to," Kíli said. "She's seeing to a lot of Bilbo's duties while he's gone. When Bilbo returns, she'll turn her attention to the well being of the people and trading with other nations instead of also dealing with provisions and any odd job that needs done by royal hands. Fíli's been busy in the forges, one of the best smiths they have down there. Freye's taken on a few of his duties too so he can work down there." 

"He a good lad Brynye?" It was Belba asking this time. She didn't have much interaction with Freye but she was curious all the same. 

"Oh aye," Brynye answered. "Should have seen how defensive he got on her behalf when she was injured. Think he would have killed a troll barehanded if he could have over that debacle." 

"Loved her since he saw her," Kíli mused. "Must be a Durin thing. I did the same with Tauriel." 

"Did I hear my name?" 

The three lady hobbits turned to see two elves entering. "Came back for a snack. Somebody tripped and fell in the river." She looked at the prince beside her. 

"Somebody threw a pine cone at my head," he countered. "Spoiled those lovely meat pies you sent with us. Sorry Lady Brynye." 

"It's all right, Prince Legolas. You might as well sit down with us. We're about to eat anyway. Mira, Donna, Belba, this is Lady Tauriel of the Wanderers and Prince Legolas of Greenwood. Tauriel is betrothed to Kíli and is adopted to my line as a sister of Freye ." The redhead sat down behind Kíli and the dwarrow slid off the bench and into her lap. She laughed and kissed the side of his head before starting to braid his hair with nimble fingers. 

"Bilbo, lad, we're going to have a long chat after lunch," Mirabella informed him. "Now then, go get that cheese block I saw in the larder. We'll need it." 

The following lunch only resulted in one break out of song as Kíli and Bifur recounted the ole "That's What Bilbo Baggins Hates" to his aunts. Mirabella and Donnamira just laughed along to the song while Belba looked mildly scandalized when Kíli started tossing dishes to Bifur to clean. 

As Bilbo showed them to the door, Mirabella turned to him and Kíli, who had followed along. "Wedding is just before winter. Can you house guests?" Mirabella questioned. 

"We'll have spare quarters I am sure," Kíli answered for Bilbo. 

"Good. Donna and I are coming. Belba?" 

"Like he's going to get married again without a Baggins there. Send one of your company around to the house tomorrow. I need to know what to pack. Share a wagon ladies?" Belba asked the pair. 

"For the best," Mirabella reasoned. "We'll be back at the end of the week for a list of what we should pack."

"Auntie-!" 

"We're going, don't argue," Donnamira told him. "You're holding that meeting at the Great Smial tomorrow night, yes? We'll talk more then." 

With that, the trio hugged Bilbo and Kíli before leaving them with their mouth's open. 

"Your mum like that?" Bain asked curiously. He had been hiding in the study since his return to the smial. 

"Worse," Brynye informed the lad. "Close your mouths the pair of you. We've got work to do before meeting with the heads of families tomorrow." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Another chapter? Yeah I'm surprised too.


	19. 3-4-2942, The Great East Road near Hobbiton

3-4-2942, The Great East Road near Hobbiton

Preparing for the trip back to Erebor had consumed most of the month the company had planned to stay in Hobbiton. There were plans for other hobbits to join future caravans, particularly unwed female hobbits who thought they might like a dwarf for a husband (surprisingly there were a few already considering it) . There was even talks of the Hobbits working with Dwarrows and Elves to resettle a small part of the Vale of Anduin but that would be years out if it ever came to fruition. 

There were eighteen wagons for the hobbits and the company that had accompanied Bilbo back to the Shire. Two wagons were for supplies the elves and dwarrows picked up in Bree. Brynye drove one of the wagons with her and Freye's things in it. She had only grabbed family items, heirlooms, clothes, books and such. She had enough room to pack additional food and medical supplies as well as some books from the Noakes Family Library. Legolas and Tauriel had added their packs to Brynye's wagon when there was room. Bain and his Dale lads shared a wagon to carry their supplies, having bought some more blankets and added food and a couple of trinkets (Tilda would love the conkers set Bain had found, flowers engraved in them) as well as crate of Bilbo's books. The rest of Bilbo's things were placed in a wagon driven by Bifur and shared between Bilbo, Kíli, and Bifur for packs and such. Bilbo had brought his mother's glory box, his favorite armchair--he'd been willing to leave it but Bifur had somehow snuck it into the wagon when he wasn't looking--, his father's maps, the portraits of his parents, and a few other odds and ends. He left the pottery and the rest of Bag End for Odo Proudfoot to use. His cousin, through his father's sister Linda, had hesitated to take over Bag End for him but agreed after several nights of talking. 

Bilbo had intended to leave Bag End to Drogo because of all his good work and to help the lad start a family with Primula Brandybuck, who he was officially engaged to. Only the strangest thing happened. Drogo had gotten a bit of the adventure fever from Bilbo and Primula and had decided to move to Erebor with Prim. That had caused quite the argument at a family supper but it was eventually agreed. So, Bilbo had turned to the Gammidge family,  thinking Hobson could surely use the space for his family. Only he was once again denied.

"Mister Bilbo, you'll need a good gardener, some hands in the kitchen, and a good roper by my reckoning," Hobson had said. "We're already packing. Though we'd like to have the smial stay in the family, the little 'uns might want to move back one day." 

Bilbo shook his head as Hobson put the wagon beside his own and got on with counting the other wagons. Nedion and Forodan drove another wagon filled with items, this time gifts to be sent to the Greenwood and Rivendell as a show of friendship. Thor, Nilron, and Flef had a similar load for Erebor and Dale. 

One of the more surprising additions to the caravan had been the Banks family. Gilber had walked up to Bag End two days after the town hall meeting and asked for guidance on what to pack and where to get a wagon. His wife Lantana was already preparing bolts of cloth to go with them (Lantana was a master at clothing and blankets). Little Eglantine had started cutting meals down to four (a respectable compromise between Kíli and Bilbo on the idea of Hobbit diets) and was giving away her things so she could travel light. Following that surprise was Widow Goodchild. Valera's husband had been a fisherman and had drowned when a fishing line had wrapped around his ankle and dragged him in. She wanted a new start for her little Bell and Valera was a known land healer. She would be useful in Erebor. Accompanying Valera up to Bag End had been Lila Cotton, the wife of Holman who was a well known farmer. They had a baby boy, barely a year old, and planned to move to Erebor. Lila told Bilbo there were too many farms, the land to hobbit ratio was getting smaller every year. She wanted Tolman to have a chance at his own large spread one day. It wasn't surprising when Zania Brown walked up to Bag End complaining about how Lila, her dearest friend in the world, was going to leave her behind and did they need a good herbalist in Erebor because she could do the work and Fardulf already worked on Holman's farm and would be happy to accompany the family to Erebor. Bilbo had just sent Bifur with her to help determine what to pack. 

Perhaps unsurprising was the number of Tooks and Brandybucks that ended up in the caravan. Sigismond Took, Bilbo's cousin through his uncle Hildibrand, had told Bilbo the night of the town hall meeting that he aimed to come with him. It didn't take much to convince Begonia, his wife, and the added hands on the caravan reassured her that three-year-old Rosamunda and two-year-old Ferdinand would have extra minders. Sigismond promised his family to visit and bring the kids back for visits over the year s . Some of the mothers talked of setting up an exchange program between the two areas. 

Rorimac Brandybuck hadn't been quite the surprise he should have been if only because his little sister Primula was going. Menegilda, Rorimac's loving wife, had taken one look between the two siblings and said she's start packing. It didn't matter that Saradoc, her one-year-old, would be an added concern or that Menegilda was pregnant (recently discovered that was), they would going along to make sure Drogo and Primula acted proper until their marriage, as if Rorimac hadn't caught them behind the rose bushes last summer. 

Another Took to join the caravan had been Adalgrim and his family. His wife Cleoma had looked between him and Rorimac, close friends as they were, and asked Menegilda what she was packing and if she'd like to share their iron cookware for the trip. Paladin (9), their only son, had cheered and spent the better part of an evening r unning around screaming about going on an adventure like Cousin Bilbo. His little sisters hadn't been quite as enthusiastic, Esmeralda (6) pouting when she was told to pick two toys to take with her, and Hosta (5) complaining about a lack of skirts (her mother only let her pack two skirts, the rest were pants). Little Lavendar (3) and Camassia (2) were too young to care. 

The last of his Took relatives that planned to relocate also brought along a Baggins. Herugar Bolger, the son of Bilbo's Aunt Belba, had been convinced by his Took-ish wife Jessamine, the daughter of his aunt Donnamira, that moving out to Erebor would give them a chance to get away from their large families for a while. Seven year old Odovacar had run over to his cousin Paladin and talked about learning to fight from dwarrows with real swords . Kíli was quick to promise their parents that wouldn't happen until they were nearly of age if ever. 

The last wagon carried the hobbits that would only be visiting. Belba Bolger née Baggins had stubbornly argued with her entire family to go. She wanted to make sure Bilbo had a good match. Mirabella had convinced Gorbadoc, who actually didn't take that much convincing seeing as he didn't want Prim to move out just yet and was going to enjoy what time he could with her, to come along. Donnamira had bullied the rest of her family to tag along, much to the chagrin of Jessamine. Heruger wasn't much happier that his mother Belba was tagging along either. Bilbo had nearly lost his mind when he realized his aunts and uncle were just going to prank the rest of the caravan the entire trip, a tradition they said. 

So, with his mind nearly bursting with plans, Bilbo had seen to the settling of the caravan next to the Great East Road. There was one place ideal for two large caravans to meet with clearings on both sides of the road and no large dips off the road . Bilbo had set up his caravan on the one side, or should he say Brynye and Bifur had, the pair familiar with running caravans. The other caravan would settle in the other clearing and they could mingle for dinner, the hobbits having brought extra food for a spectacular send off feast that evening. 

"Wagons!" Nedion shouted from his post in a tree. His head dropped out of the foliage, several children laughing at his hair falling in his face. "They're here." 

Thor took all the tall members of their company, so the elves and the men, to create a line for the wagons to follow into the clearing. The dwarrows were waiting to help the other caravan set up camp. The first wagon arrived, a dwarrowdam jumping from her pony and handing the reins to the dwarrow sitting on the back of the wagon. She gave Thor a mighty hug before heading over the hobbit's caravan, her thick black hair billowing in the wind. 

"Amad!" A blur of Durin blue later, the dwarrowdam held Kíli in her motherly arms, tutting at the appearance of her son. She did let out a laugh as Kíli picked her up swung her around. "I have you, Amad." 

"And I you, dashat." She brought their foreheads together and closed her eyes. "It is good to have you in my arms again." She let go of him after another minute and took to inspecting him critically. "Too skinny, but we'll see to that in Erebor. Now then, your brother in good health? With all the preparations, we haven't had a chance to correspond with the mountain." 

"Last I heard he was." 

"Good, good. Now then, introduce me to everyone." 

"Eh, not quite everyone yet," Kíli remarked. "Lot of hobbits, too many to name right now. For now, the ones you'll need to know." He led her over to Bilbo's wagon where the hobbit, Tauriel, Bifur, and Legolas were waiting. Legolas had also snagged Bain before he could join in helping to direct the dwarrow caravan. The young prince swallowed nervously and shifting to hide just behind Legolas' shoulder. 

Dís let her eyes roam over the group with a smile on her lips. She had heard about the hobbit and the elves in many of Thorin's letters and even more in Kíli and Fíli's letters. All three had claimed him a brave, kind soul and a person to rally behind. 

"You look like a grocer," Dís concluded as she stood across from her brother-in-law.

"Funnily enough, that's what your brother called me at first meeting," Bilbo remarked. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Dís. Bilbo Baggins at your service." 

"From all the letters and those beads in your hair, you have the right to call me by name, Nadad." She pulled the hobbit in for a hug and gently butted heads with him. "I look forward to the second wedding, for both you and my son. Do I have relatives of yours to help me plan it? I would hate for hobbit culture to excluded from the ceremony." 

"You won't want for relatives," Bilbo promised. He swallowed as he thought about his aunts and uncle. They had months to plan their interrogation of Thorin and with Dís' help, he actually feared for his husband. 

"Good! I'll need the help. Now then, Master Bifur, it is glad to see you once more and lacking your axe!" 

"Still have it, Princess Dís," he replied. He took the axe off his belt. "The elf that took it out had a handle fitted and gifted it to me. It's slain many an orc in return." 

"Oh Bifur, it has been too long since I have heard Westron from you." Dís hugged the toy maker, something that he wasn't expecting. He hugged her back. "I'm also glad you're a Lord of Erebor. Mahal knows Thorin will need a few level heads on the Council of Lords." Bifur started laughing as they separated. 

Dís turned to the elves but Legolas brought forward Bain who tried to back up into him. Bain was intimidated by Thorin and Dís was nearly as intimidating as the King! 

"They sent a child on a delegation. Mahal's beard, what were they thinking? Come here lad." Dís drew the lad in, looking him over and cleaning a smudge off his face. "Skinny too. Not feeding these boys?" She looked at Bilbo. 

"I don't know where they put it," Bilbo told her. "I can't count how many pies they've eaten. This is Bain, Prince of Dale, son of King Bard the Dragonslayer. Bain and his friends came along to learn of other kingdoms ; they will be the next leaders of Dale." 

"Plus, Bree Men were a bit nicer when they realized they had a visiting Prince of Men among them," Kíli joked. "Never seen better manners from them Breelanders than that day." 

"Happy to help," Bain told Kíli. Dís let her eyes check the lad once more before patting the lad's shoulder. She turned to the elves. 

She knew the blond elf well enough, remembered him from his rare appearance in the mountain alongside his elder brother when Laurinion attempted to foster relations before Thror's madness had barred them from the mountain permanently. If she remembered correctly, the lad would be considered barely older that Fíli in some ways. She needed a moment longer to place the redhead, but a memory of a slightly younger elf following the princes as their would-be guard came to her. She had never learned her name when she was a child but she would make that right now. 

"Prince Legolas of the Greenwood, it is an unexpected pleasure to see you here. I have heard I have you and another elf to thank for the life of my sons and brother. Am I right in assuming this is the elf?" She motioned to Tauriel who bowed her head. 

"You would be correct, Princess Dís. It is good to see you once more. Perhaps we might reminisce on past times over a fiddle and a flute? It has been a while since I've played but I should still be able to keep up with you, Little Fire Fingers." There was a smirk on Legolas' face. Bain looked confused and looked at Bilbo who had no answers for him. 

"You're on, Princeling. And you, Lady Elf?" 

"Tauriel of the Wanderers, Lady of Erebor." Dís raised an eyebrow and looked over at her son who was pointedly not looking his mother in the face. "I am also betrothed to Kíli with Thorin's blessing." 

"It would seem my brother has forgotten important details as usual," Dís muttered. "The Wanderers?" 

"A new clan instituted by Thorin," Bilbo informed her. "My cousin heads it, Freye daughter of Asta and Frye. It is meant to be a home for those who have lost their families or are unwelcome among them and for non-dwarrows to find a place with." 

"That's right, Brynye's granddaughter went along and she's married to Fíli. I would appreciate those details at some point," Dís said to her son and brother-in-law. "Is Bry here? It's been some time since I've seen her." 

"How about you turn around then," a teasing voice called from behind her. The dwarrowdam spun around to see her old friend. They collided, heads together and arms tight. "It is good to see you, old friend." 

"Aye, the same to you." Dís caught sight of a bead in Brynye's hair. "Balin finally got his act together, eh?" 

"It was me that had to get my act together." Brynye snagged Tauriel's sleeve and brought her over. "This one forgot one of her titles, granddaughter of Brynye and sister of Freye. Freye claimed her to her line." 

"Then that certainly means this elf must be nearly dwarrow in heart," Dís remarked. She embraced Tauriel as she would a daughter, head knocked against the tall elf's and arms around her. "Welcome to the family, Tauriel." 

"Thank you." 

Those words released all the tension in the group. Kíli happily sidled up against his betrothed. The group was about to talk about supper plans when a shrill, "UNCLE BIFUR!" was heard around the camp. 

Chaos reigned. Bifur had not time to prepare for the onslaught of small bodies. He found himself under a pile of fourteen young ones, dwarrow, hobbit, and mixed blood alike. He laughed deeply as he headbutted them all gently and affectionately mussed up their hair. 

"Uncle?" Kíli questioned. 

"Aye. Bifur is more of a brother to Bofur and Bombur after all these years," Brynye told him. "Had a nice long chat about it one night. The kids hate calling him Cousin Bifur so Uncle Bifur he became." 

"Children!" An exasperated mother ran up and started tossing her children gently away from Bifur. Once they were cleared away, with the exception of the two toddling two-year-olds who had wrapped themselves around his legs, she pulled Bifur up for a hug and straightened his messy hair. "My husband? How is Bombur? He's been so busy in Erebor, I barely get letters." 

"Still well. In his last letter he was working with Bofur to finish construction of your new home in Erebor. Thorin gave him several suit e s to remodel in the Hall of Lords, enough for the whole family to live comfortably." The barefooted mother just smiled and gave him another hug. 

"Cassias Stoor." Bilbo's voice was clear and level. The wife of Bombur slowly turned to look at her childhood friend before hiding behind Bifur. "Cass, you would hide from me?" Bilbo sounded honestly hurt. 

"This can't be happening," Cassias bemoaned. She put her face into the back of Bifur's shirt. The others around them looked confused, including the children. 

"Cass do you really think I would have an issue if you married a dwarrow?" His voice was soft, reassuring. "I married one, would be a bit hypocritical of me don't you think? I'm just glad to see you alive, old friend." He held a hand out toward her. She looked around Bifur's shoulder nervously. 

"Not mad?" 

"Little irked that you left without a letter. I thought you dead for nearly twenty years." Bilbo smiled as Cassias took his hand. He pulled her in for a tight hug, the  smaller hobbit crying into his shoulder. 

"Family secret?" Legolas guessed. 

"Bof and I found her collapsed in the woods near the Blue Mountains," Bifur explained. "Run away from home she did." 

"Said my feet were too small, not hairy enough. Thought if they kept calling me a dwarrow, I might as well live with 'em," Cassias said into Bilbo's shoulder. They separated and smiled reassuringly at each other. 

"The naysayers that couldn't criticize Brynye's line took it out on Cassias. They say the Stoors have more dwarrow in their line than most. I never cared." He looked over the assembled children. "Can I meet your little ones then?" 

"Of course! These are Dodur and Krafur," she said motioning to the two first set of identical twins, the lads set to turn fifteen in a few weeks' time. "You should have seen Bombur's face when I gave birth to twins! Not that the midwife looked much better. Then there's Fifur and Bolur." She motioned to her thirteen-year-old lads. "Marlur was our first girl. Bofur got drunk after she was born, couldn't believe he had a niece." The twelve-year-old groaned and hid her face in her brother's shoulder. "Cassur and Melur, those little rascals wouldn't let me eat my favorite foods during their pregnancy." The duo of ten-year-olds giggled and whispered to each other. Bilbo was reminded of the whispering Kíli and Fíli were known to do. "Felur and Febur were the only two to get the dark hair." The eight-year-olds were sporting braids reminiscent of Bifur and Bofur. "Then our youngest, the terrible two in the terrible twos, Delis and Balur. Their parents were friends of ours, mothers passed away during childbirth of children who didn't make it long and fathers died in the same mine accident. Bombur and I took them in." Bifur ruffled the duos' hair. "Then these three," she motioned to the trio of tweens that stood at the edge of the group, "are our hobbits from Bree. You know how their orphanage is Bilbo, the unclaimed children of secret  ill thought of  affairs. Horrible place for children. Found them not long after I married Bombur, triplets. Didn't have names so we took them in and started our family. Best decision we could have done. The tall one is Malis, the scowling one is Gris, and Beris is the one braiding a flower crown." 

"I think, my dear friend, that you have broken Old Took's record," Bilbo commented wryly. Cassias shoved her old friend playfully.

"Cousin!" That shout had the group turning again. A red headed dwarrow booked it over to Kíli who caught him in a hug. Gimris, the lovely dwarrowdam walking up behind him, reprimanded young Gimli for not waiting for her. Bilbo, having learned to appreciate the dwarven form, understood how Gimris was worthy of ballads to her beauty. He'd still take Thorin though. 

Gimli started a rivalry with Legolas not twenty minutes later. It was going to be a long trip back to Erebor if they kept it up. Then Lagur and Lenis, the parents of Bombur and Bofur, had arrived. When Bifur properly introduced Brynye to his aunt and uncle, well, he wouldn't tell Bofur and Bombur how much their father cried at the sight of the child long thought dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I did a crap ton of research for this chapter. I made sure the parents or grandparents of Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Samwise, and their respective wives were on the caravan. Now, you may question what would happen later since the four of them gained positions in the Shire. So, for the sake of simplicity and since I am not going that far into the future with this story (couple more years but not long enough for those four to come of age), the answer is thus: The four of them moved back to the Shire for a time, a decade or two, however long you wish. They would gain those positions anyway. Perhaps they died in the Shire. Perhaps they wandered back to Erebor to the little Hobbit colony there. Perhaps the four of them helped lead it during their life time, I don't know. I'm just saying, these are all possibilities. Make up your own headcanon.
> 
> Oh, and as for Gimli and Legolas, their little feud can be whatever you want. Gimli put together Legolas was the one to insult his mother or something. I don't know, that's why I didn't write it.


	20. 3-14-2942, Erebor

As a child, Thorin had explored every inch of the royal quarters over the years. He knew about the secret passage that went through the hall, one only Nori and his closest family knew about. It had been an emergency escape route in previous generations. Thorin had drilled the location of the two doors into Frerin and Dís's heads as children.  He had since passed it on to the rest of his family.

There was one room, however, that he had trouble relocating after so many years. He had seen the room, never found it with his own hands, when his father retrieved an old tome his mother had needed. Thorin had been quickly diverted away from the room, away from the shelves and shelves of books. He knew the door lay in the common room near to the fireplace and far from the water pipes. 

He had to call in Bofur. While Thorin's stone-sense was nothing to belittle, Bofur had an exceptional talent for it. He had found the door quick enough, right where Thorin had been staring for the past two months, but said it was heavily spelled. So, Thorin called in Freye. While she was less familiar with the spells as Bofur and Balin, she had the keen sense for it. The spell had wanted something, it was not a word or a specific touch that it wanted, but it was something keyed to the line of Durin, that much she could tell with how the door reacted to her and Thorin but not to Bofur , the magic reaching out at their nearing . They had left the mystery alone for a few weeks, Balin and Ori doing some digging in the library when they had the free time. 

It took a paper cut to open the door. 

Thorin had been pulling a book off one of the shelves, flipping it open to find an old dwarven law he knew would be coming up in future council meetings, only to snag the edge of the page. A small drop of blood, barely noticeable, developed on his finger tip. He grumbled, shaking his hand lightly. The drop flew off, hitting the wall. The door let out a great thump as it moved back from its locked position. 

Thorin, having put the tome in his hand down, pushed the door open and slid it back. He was surprised to find the same glowing crystals that lined the ArkenTree's garden protruding from the walls. The room was the size of his personal study but filled with bookcases from front to back, barely enough room to weave between them. He started taking note of the books. He would have to have Ori do a full inventory for him, perhaps waiting for the caravan to arrive though. There was an entire row of bookcases dedicated to elvish texts. He picked up a few words here and there, his mother and grandmother having insisted he know some of the tongue so he would know greetings and insults apart, mostly about procedures in elven courts and some history books. 

It was the row of bookcases in the back that perplexed him though. They were covered in dust, far more than any other set in the room. The runic script was unfamiliar to him and not quite the same sharp lines of Khuzdul or the curved letters of the Elven languages. 

"Nu'adad?" The voice came from the doorway. He looked through the slim hall between the bookcases to see Freye standing there. "What is this room?" 

"That is what I aim to discover," Thorin told her. "I remember it from my childhood. I recognized a few of the titles in Khuzdul, tomes long thought lost. There are some in the elven tongues and in Westron. These though, these I do not recognize." He took two of the tomes off a shelf and walked over to her. While she was no longer using her crutches, she still had a brace on to help support the weight. "Your grandmother taught you of other kingdoms. Do you recognize the script?" 

She took one of the tomes, leaning against the doorway for comfort, and brushed the dust off it. She nearly dropped the book in shock. Thorin was able to steady it in her hands. 

"Freye?" 

"This is Hobbitish, Thorin." She carefully opened the cover. "Written by Gorhendad Fallohidion and Odilon son of Fastolph the Hardfooted." She flipped the page slowly. "Mahal's beard, this is a text about dwarven and hobbit relations!" She took the other book from him, closing the first and setting it aside. "Seed-stones, Thorin this is the original seed-stone text!" She flipped through the first couple of pages, there was a table of contents. She skimmed the words, struggled at a few unknown words, before stopping on one line. She flipped the book until she came to the page. There were illustrations on the page, dwarrows with hobbits, hobbits with hobbits, elves with dwarrows, elves with hobbits, elves with elves, and dwarrows with dwarrows. Each picture sat above a small sketch of a baby and a page number. 

"What does it say?" Thorin inquired. 

"The stones, they weren't just gifts for Hobbits," she whispered. "The date at the front, it's when dwarrows began being less fertile and elves started to not have as many children. When Hobbits died of complications far more often than they do now." She flipped through a few pages, finger skimming across the text. "The elves did not use the stones, they were content with their numbers. The dwarrows used some. It says here that a rumor among Men spread that dwarrows were carved from the stones. And here, it's the bit about Hobbits. They had the most seed-stones and laying-stones, their population unstable. I would have to read the rest of the book but this appears to be a full history of the stones. You said there are more books?" 

He led her back to the bookcases. She skimmed her fingers along the edges of the tomes. "This one, it's written by a hobbit but it has an honorific of a dwarrow, the translation from Khuzdul to Hobbitish is rough but enough I can understand it, a consort." She moved further down the line. "This one, the title concerns the recent slumber of seed-stones in dwarven colonies. The one beside it talks of the necessity of Hobbits near dwarven lands for the stones to wake and produce other stones." She skimmed the next few titles before coming across a thin one, barely forty pages thick. It was the youngest of the works. She took it out, hands shaking as she opened the pages. Her hand shook greater as she read the first few paragraphs. 

"Freye?" There was concern in Thorin's voice. 

"It's an account by a hobbit, the last to live among Durin's Folk, must have been when Moria still stood. He was a scribe and envoy to Durin's Folk, the husband of a royal line, a lord if his title evolved the way I think it did." She flipped the page, skimmed a few lines, and then promptly shut the little volume and put it back on the shelf. Her shoulders were shaking. Thorin drew her into his arms as emotions overcame her. 

"They are not good words," Thorin guessed. 

"A group of dwarrows, against the orders of their king, went to a village in the Vale. They rounded up hobbits and as many laying-stones as they could find. The stones were not properly carried and withered within days. The hobbits fought back. The males were slaughter, three females survived. They died soon after, lives taken by their own hand instead of submitting to the dwarrows. I could not read further. " 

Thorin shook his head, chin resting atop her head. She held onto him tightly. Such actions would not be repeated. He would see to the safety of the hobbits and the stones.

* * *

* * *

Fíli looked up from his braiding of his wife's hair at the odd knocking on the door. Freye called out for Nori who slipped inside quickly, the door sliding silently shut behind him. He held out a thin roll of parchment. 

"Beorn's connections to other skin-changers may have saved us some grief, my lady." Nori stood back as she took the parchment. "The dogs we knew in his home, they were indeed skin-changers, just not comfortable around dwarrows. They have kin in the wolf packs that patrol along the Greenwood and out to the East and North. One of the packs came across Blacklocks headed for Erebor." 

"Not surprising," Fíli remarked. "Dáin did send word to them that Erebor is resettled." Freye unrolled the scroll. She read the script quickly before handing it back to Nori. 

"Keep as close an eye as you can, which I fear will not be close enough with the other new arrivals that come every week. If they cause issues as were warned, deal with them as you see fit." 

"The consequences?" 

"I will brief Thorin in the morning. Do they speak against our allies in Dale as well?" 

"They do not seem like the type that would approve of such relations." 

"See that Sigrid is informed as well then. Close eyes should be kept on the children while that group is in the mountain." 

"Of course. Good evening." Nori bowed his head a bit and ducked out. Fíli hummed questioningly as he went back to braiding her hair. 

"The Spymaster reports first to the queen or consort as to help ease the duties of the king. In my cousin's stead, Nori reports to me. He could have reported to you instead but you have enough duties taking on Bilbo's other duties. I think he's training me for when I have to do the same at your side," Freye told him. 

"The note, is there danger approaching?" 

"Possibly. For now, do not worry, my dear heart. I will speak with Thorin in the morning and have his thoughts on the matter." 

"When I sit on the throne, promise me we will talk each night of what the Spymaster says," Fíli murmured against her neck. He tugged gently on the braid he had finished. 

"As you wish, my dearest." She leaned into his chest. "You have not been sleeping well. What trouble you?" 

Fíli remained quiet for a time, arms wrapping around her middle and pulling her close. He nuzzled against her cheek. "Night terrors," he answered. He placed his hand on her splinted leg. "Mostly Ravenhill, dying in your arms, you dying in mine." He tightened his hold around her waist. "They will pass in time. You dream similarly, you have said as much." 

She let out a soft huff in reply. "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if Brynye had grown up among dwarrows? Do you think we would have met?" 

"Mahal would not have forged us both only to keep us apart," he replied. He played with a braid again. "Let's not think about it further."

They managed a few hours sleep, nothing spectacular, both waking at different times in the night from violent dreams. They stayed wrapped around each other until it was proper to start the day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: So, Gorhendad Fallohidion is meant to call back to the Fallohides, one of the three types of Hobbits. They are most like elves so the "ion" was added get Fallohidion (Son of Fallohid). So, in my head, they cut of the "ion" because there were so many of them and started calling them the Fallohides. As for Odilon son of Fastolph the Hardfooted, that is meant to call back to the Harfoots. The Harfoots were friendly with dwarrows and I thought perhaps Fastolph the Hardfooted could have been a dwarrow ancestor to the Hobbits. Hardfooted became Harfoot and it was passed down the line.


	21. 4-9-2942, Erebor

4-9-2942, Erebor

Winter had passed slowly in the mountain, but spring was finally starting to creep up from the south. During the winter, Freye had begun teaching Sigrid and Tilda all she could about being royalty and taking a leading position among their peoples. Balin acted as another tutor to the girls, including Freye who needed to learn new rules and protocols that had not been practiced during the dwarrows exile. Thorin and Fíli gave what aid they could to learn court practices and how to keep a steady face in front of idiotic advisors. Sigrid and Freye had watched first hand as Thorin had dealt with the would-be advisors that came from the Iron Hills. His gruffness and slowly evolving disdain for the greedy dwarrows had caused him to send more than one of them back to Dáin before Nori could remove precious family jewels from each dwarrow. Thorin had turned to his Company (most of whom were lords or in positions of power similar enough to one), his brother, his brother-in-law, and even Tevrom to help him rule the mountain. There had been one memorable day when Thorin had listened to Beriadis and three other elves that had remained in the mountain over a pigheaded Firebeard that claimed insult. Bard had made himself known among Thorin's advisors as well, the allied kings working together for the betterment of their peoples. As it was, some of Dale still resided in the mountain, mostly the women and children, while the men had gone out into Dale to build with the help of some of Dáin's loaned stonemasons. Thranduil had even sent a group of elves to help with the rebuilding.

Five months since her injury, Freye was ready to start sparring again. Beriadis had dragged on her healing period for as long as she could before Freye had tossed the brace off and tested her leg with a light jog down the hall. Neither Beriadis nor Óin could argue that she had healed.

She took to sparring with Fíli and Dwalin at all hours, whatever time they could fit into their busy schedules. As Víli regained his strength and muscles, he joined in the training as well. He spent a good deal of his time sparring against Freye, which had the added benefit of him having a healer on hand if he overworked something again—he did so frequently, trying to push himself too fast and too hard. Fíli often sat in on those sessions and cheered for one or the other, typically whoever had given him a sweet before the spar started. Frerin could be found at Fíli's side commenting on the styles the pair used. Frerin sparred less than Víli or Freye but enough that he had begun to resemble his nephew Kíli in build. He took his training slower. He knew his limits all too well. Fíli and Freye enjoyed sparring with knives against Frerin, learning moves that Frerin had used as a young dwarrow and that Thorin had never picked up. Tevrom, once his body had let him, had asked for some basic weapons training from Dwalin. Tevrom had been a good fighter back in the day but that had been using improvised weapons, like the boar spear that Bofur said Bifur now used.

Attending all of the recovering dwarrows, including a stubborn Thorin whose stomach still gave him twinges at times, were the ever-present Óin and Beriadis and the persistent presence of Bombur through his surprisingly nutritious food. For as busy as Bombur was, he still stubbornly made time for the Company to see them all properly fed, even if it meant marching down to the forges to pull whichever stubborn dwarrow was still down there all the way to the dinner table. Fíli and Ori remarked that he must be a strict father behind his back and earned a whack with Bombur's ladle for their troubles.

It was long past suppertime, nearly time for bed, when Freye wandered down to the ArkenTree Garden with Kund at her side. Bofur and Dori gave her nods as they worked on placing the door that was finally finished. The spell to open the door had been written by Ori and Balin. The rest of the Company memorized the spell and sliding hand motions. While the ArkenTree had branched out around the mountain, the heart of it must be protected especially with the precious children that it grew. Dwalin gave her a nod as she approached. It was his turn on guard duty, until Dori and Bofur finished the door. After that, the shifts in the halls would be enough. No one had been allowed back by the garden; only the oldest of dwarrows might remember its existence now, and those who did had no desire to find what they assumed would be a broken fountain and too many mushrooms to deal with.

"Thorin's already in there. Try to get him to go to bed, lass."

"I'll try Dwalin. There is a plan in place," she promised. "Little roadside reminiscing. Nori said he’d grab your bedroll." Dwalin chuckled and pushed the door open for her. Kund sat down beside him and nosed at the pocket Dwalin kept his treats in. The burly dwarrow huffed before digging out a biscuit for the warg.

The great crystal branches and roots had spread further across the ceiling of the room. The original Arkenstone glittered in the center of the tree. She examined the smaller stones as she entered. Some had migrated up the limps, a few inside them. She expected, as the mountain settled, some stones would find the right parents and their homes.

The largest stone pulsed with inviting warmth. Other limbs formed a cradle under it. Thorin stood beside it, fingertips running across the stone.

"It does that when family is around, the pulsing," Thorin remarked. She hummed. She spotted the nest of blankets he had made at the base of the tree. Thorin hadn't slept in his room for the past month.

Coming to his side, she asked, “How long are you going to keep sleeping down here, Nu’adad? It’s not healthy for you.”

“It is better than sleeping alone,” he replied. “Without Bilbo at my side I find it difficult to sleep, very difficult.”

“Then bunk with one of the Company or as Irak’adad.”

“Frerin has enough troubles and so do the others.” He shook his head, his pulled back hair drifting from side to side. “Enough of that, I called you here for a favor.”

“If it is within my powers you know I will do it.”

He gave her a smile and walked toward the growing stone. “I hope it is. Can you sense the child? Can you tell if they are healthy?” he asked. His hand brushed against the stone, a soft caress.

“New father jitters, Nu’adad?” Her teasing was lighthearted. She put her hand against the stone; it warmed under her touch. “Any hobbit can sense a laying-stone, though only those of the healing variety can sense it properly. We used the same senses that we use when healing. Nana Noakes taught me when I was very young how to sense others. I will give it my best try.”

She put both hands on the stone, a soft prayer to Yavanna and Mahal escaping her lips. She leaned in, forehead resting against the stone.

It changed colors, a warm amber light coming through the blue and green. She inhaled sharply and stroked the shell with her fingertips.

_Well hello there little ones. You’re so healthy, so warm. You are worried though._

The thoughts in return were more feelings and images. If she hadn’t read the old Noakes books and the collection of Hobbit texts in the private royal library, she wouldn’t have imagined it possible. She saw Thorin through their eyes, the warmth and love they had for him and the worry. An image of Thorin sleeping restlessly below the tree came across.

_Oh little ones, he worries for you and he misses your papa. He feels better here with you._

The images they sent all boiled down to Thorin going to sleep in a proper bed. She chuckled at that.

_Oh all right little ones. Would you like to greet him before I take him away?_ Warmth and unfiltered powerful love came through the bond.

“Put your hand here Nu’adad.” She motioned to the spot she had just moved her right hand from. He did and she put her hand over it. “Your children want to greet you. They are more aware than a normal child.” She closed her eyes in concentration and started channeling the feelings into Thorin. He must have felt them. His other hand came up to touch the stone and he leaned his forehead against it. “They can send emotions and images to you.”

“So bright, like a fire,” he murmured. “So warm.”

“That’s the love,” she told him.

“Can you tell me if I have a son or a daughter?”

“Both, Nu’adad. Look closer, can you feel it?”

She tried to guide his perception. A shudder ran through him and then he was wrapping his other arm around the stone.

“A daughter and a son, Mahal be blessed,” Thorin said. “So much love.” He stiffened as his daughter turned on him, messages of worry and pictures of sleeping. “I didn’t know I was worrying you all so much.”

“That’s your daughter,” Freye told him. “She’s going to be the louder one. Your son is more soft-spoken but I can feel the mischief.”

“With a father like Bilbo and cousins like Fíli and Kíli, that was a guarantee.” He kissed the stone. “I will go to bed, children, but I will be back in the morning to greet you.” The feeling of love multiplied.

Thorin pulled away after a long moment, Freye having already moved to check on the other stones in the room.

“Thank you for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“How do I tell Bilbo?” His voice was full or concern but also amusement. Undoubtedly, he was sharing the mental image that she was, Bilbo fainting. Thorin gathered his things and turned toward her as she lingered by one of the stones. “It’s unheard of to have twins among dwarrows, other than the rare exception that is Bombur but that’s because his wife isn’t a dwarrowdam.” Freye turned to him at that. She had heard about Bombur’s large family but never thought it had meant that he had a wife of another race. “She hides it well, claims of stunted growth and all, but I’ve glimpsed her pointed ears. I am certain she is a hobbit.”

“How many children do they have?”

“Last I knew, nine by blood, three orphaned hobbits, and two orphaned dwarrows. They have the largest family on record.”

“That record may not stand long if the tree has anything to do with it.” Thorin’s curious gaze made her laugh. “Look around. Most of the stones are dull, the colors have not emerged because they do not have parents yet. The ones with color? Most of them have the same colors as the stone growing now. You have more children coming Nu’adad. I’d say you have one due next spring.” She motioned to a small stone, barely larger than any of the others. “This one is growing.”

“More children. I thought these two would be our only blessing.”

“I think the Valar have blessed you Nu’adad. Their touch is all over this room,” Freye remarked. “Now then, off to bed.”

They emerged from the room to find Dwalin chatting with Dori and Bofur. The doors were in place and ready to be closed. Kund hurried in front of them, prancing about excitedly as the group exited the side hall.

“The guards are in place. Best and loyalist of Dáin’s men, they either fought with us at Azanulbizar, have Durin family connections, or both. Beriadis and Turidis are patrolling the halls as well.” Thorin closed the doors and sealed them as Dwalin spoke. “Speaking of those two, there was a formal request filed through Balin to allow them to stay in the Mountain or to join the Hobbit Settlement. I’ve talked with Óin and he’s for Beriadis, and I will sponsor Turidis, she’s been a great help with the guard.”

“I see no problem with their continued stay if our Lady of the Wanderers does not object.” Thorin gave her a smile as she went to speak. “I know you will approve of them; I was teasing. As it is, they are not the first.” Thorin rubbed the back of his neck. “We have had a smattering of others as well, ones loyal to Legolas and Tauriel. A few of the Rivendell elves have also filed requests. We will have to have those acceptances or denials sent out soon if they are to join the caravan. They wish to come here and teach, heal, be of service to Men and Dwarrows. Speaking of Rivendell.” He turned toward Freye again. “Young Estel, the lad you befriended? He will travel with his mother on the first caravan. His mother and Lord Elrond thought he could pick something up from dwarrows, foster relations. Evidently, he is of high birth among the Men. Elladan and Elrohir will accompany him as will Glorfindel. Personally, I think the Twice-Born wishes a rematch against Dwalin.” Dwalin grinned at the news. There sparring matches had become legendary. “I’ll have Balin relay the requests to you. He’s been sorting out the dwarrows that were looking for riches and hasn’t had time to review the elves.”

That was a relief to Freye. She had already been dealing with the number of hobbits approaching--it was far more than they had anticipated and took all three of the ravens Kíli had taken with him to relay the lists and plans safely--and working with the miners and buildres to divide up a section of the mountain that stretched toward Dale where the smials could be built. Bilbo had seen to it that the designs were sent to her from each family group so that contstruction could begin. There were already two smials complete, the largest of the projects. The others would follow quickly now. They would need decoration from the hobbits but they would have homes waiting for them and furniture from the Men (who had learned how to make hobbit sized furniture). There were even water lines and heat vents that ran out to the smials, meaning that the smials would have running water and the heat would only need some supplemation by way of burning wood.

Freye and the other three walked Thorin all the way to the den of the royal chambers. The rest of the Company was there along with Víli, Frerin, and Tevrom. There were bedrolls and cots spread out throughout the room. Freye took Thorin’s bedroll and placed it beside four others.

“You planned this,” Thorin realized.

“Well your kids helped but yes,” Freye answered.

“We thought a night like we had on the road might help everyone. We all miss Kíli, Bifur, and Bilbo,” Fíli replied. “I take it you didn’t have to drag him kicking and screaming then?”

“Nope.”

“Ha! Bofur!” Fíli marched toward the private kitchen. “You owe me twenty pieces!”

“Mahal damn it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has been so long since posting, school and family issues.


	22. 4-21-2942, Erebor

4-21-2942, Erebor

Typically, Fíli woke up before Freye unless one of them had a nightmare. He had been pulling many early shifts in the forges and that had led to getting up and moving before Freye would rouse herself for the day. He had his morning routine down pat, so much so that he didn’t even look up. After taking care of his daily absolutions, he walked back out to find his clothes for the day.

A soft glow caught his attention. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Yep, still there. He walked closer and gave a shout.

That roused Freye from her rest. She had a dagger in hand before she was out of the bed. When she saw what Fíli had shouted at, she started laughing. In their room was one of the tendrils from the ArkenTree. It carried no Laying-Stone but it had dragged one of the glowing crystals along for the trip and it hung from the limb like a lantern.

“Really Fíli?”

“It surprised me!”

A knock at their door caught their attention. Thorin poked his head in. “Ah, you have one as well. I nearly ran face first into mine.”

Freye climbed out of bed and walked over to her husband. She put her hand on the tendril and smiled gently at the warmth. “It wanted to be near me, so I could sense distress or births.”

“Good idea I suppose. The tendrils are through all the royal quarters and most of the lords’ quarters by the looks of it. Dwalin and Nori were woken up by one beside their bed.”

“They’re just being friendly,” she insisted.

In Tevrom’s rooms, he sat in front of the tendril that had curled around his bedpost. There was one of the stones laying within the tendril, not yet ready to emerge but close. He put his hand on the cool crystal-like structure and smiled.

“Just wait until Bifur sees you, little one,” he said. “You’ll make him the happiest dwarrow in the world.”

* * *

Reinhard and Tyren had been loyal guards to the Line of Durin since they were children. It had been tough, in years past, when their king had wandered away without guards but he had insisted he was just a dwarrow and he did not need a protection guard. So, they had gone to find work in the Iron Hills. It was a nice enough place but nothing compared to being in Erebor and guarding the Royal Family once again.

“Did you hear that Dwalin is expecting a child?” Tyren asked from across the doors. “My wife overheard him talking with Lord Bofur.”

“Who would bear his child?”

“Oh like he wouldn’t have a line waiting for him,” Tyren countered. “No, the other half is Lord Nori. You know about the ArkenTree?”

“He’s been blessed like the King?”

“From what I have heard, yes.”

“That child will have the most protective set of relatives known to dwarrow and that is saying something.”

Their laughter drifted down the hall and covered the approaching footfalls.

The two guards didn’t realize the trouble in front of them until an axe swung toward Reinhard’s head. He let out a shout, his sword deflecting the blow. Tyren pulled his sword and fought against two of the other dwarrows that marched on the royal quarters. Two more pushed past and into the royal quarters.

The whole of the royal family was not present in the quarters for once despite it being near the noon hour and the traditional lunch break that had turned into a complaint session between the royals. Those that were present were Freye, Frerin, and Víli along with Tevrom and two young dwarrowdams from the Iron Hills, Marta and Jade.

“You came together from the Iron Hills,” Freye noted as she looked through her sheets. “It says here orphans.”

“Yes my lady,” the older of the pair said. “I also petitioned for custody of Jade. I looked out for her in the Iron Hills before our fathers were killed. I’m sixty four, it won’t be that long until I can legally adopt her into my house.”

“That is very kind of you to do. Is that your wish, young Jade?” The nineteen year old nodded shortly. She was young, so very young, to have lost both her parents and the near-uncle that could have taken her in. Both of their fathers had served in the Battle of the Five Armies and had been counted among the dead. “I do not see why she cannot stay with you then Marta. Until you come of age, you will need a formal sponsor. You can still live on your own with Jade, but we don’t want you to have no support. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“We know no one here,” she replied. “I was always working or tending to Jade, never enough time to make friends.”

“Then we can find you one. What are your interests?”

“I want to become a guard,” Marta told her. “It’s what I’m good at. Dad taught me from a young age. Jade is into books, maps. Her father would take maps, back them with a thin wood, and cup them apart for puzzles.”

“So a young scholar,” Freye mused. “Yes I think I know a few people that can sponsor you, be a guiding hand. I will reach out to them for you.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

“Enough with that,” Freye told them.

Shouts and metal clanging down the hall brought the interview to a standstill. Freye stood up, hand going to her sword already. Víli came in from the kitchen wielding a long knife in a reverse grip.

“Dissidents!” Tevrom’s shout accompanied by him and Frerin bursting into the room. Frerin held a sword in one hand while Tevrom had a boar spear in the other.

“Freye take the girls and go,” Víli ordered. “Tevrom go with them.”

“I can fight!” Malta objected.

“Not today,” Víli countered. “Go. Get Thorin!”

“The nearest passage is across the hall.”

“Let’s go, Brother,” Frerin said firmly.

Before Freye could object, the pair of princes charged out into the battle. The sound of metal on metal filled the air. Tevrom checked out the door and motioned them forward.

The other dwarrows had made it past the guards. One with a club swung toward Freye who ducked out of the way and brought her sword up to block.

“Take her and go!” she ordered Malta.

The younger girl didn’t hesitate this time. She pushed the even younger dwarrowdam toward the family study.

One of the dwarrows snagged Malta by her hair and spun her around and to the floor. The one with the club missed Freye and hit Jade. The scream of the youngest dwarrowdam bounced down the halls. Tevrom caught her and pulled her back from the battle, spear jabbing at any that dared to come near.

Freye swung her sword again, the blade slicing clean through the neck of one dwarrow. Víli drove his knife into the heart of another and shoved him away. Frerin caught the attack headed for him with his blade but failed to notice the knife quickly pulled out of hiding and shoved toward his stomach. He twisted at the last moment and it sliced into his side, missing anything vital. Víli’s knife buried itself in the dwarrow’s back, the dwarrow crumbling to the ground and gasping for breath. Tevrom caught the fourth dwarrow in the gut with his spear.

The fifth had taken advantage of Freye’s back being turned toward her now slain opponent. The throwing knife in his hand spun through the air toward her vulnerable back.

It didn’t land. There was a soft thunk as Freye turned around. Malta stood behind her, arms outstretched, knife buried in her chest.

“NO!”

Tevrom’s spear stuck the man to the wall, spear through his gut.

Freye caught Malta around her waist and lowered her to the ground.

“I would have made a good guard, right?” the child asked.

“Oh the best,” Freye insisted. “In fact, you’re the princess’s guard, how does that sound?”

“T-then I have failed you, my lady.”

“No, no child.” Freye pushed her hair back and kissed the young dwarrowdam’s forehead. “You have not failed. You saved my life; you fulfilled the role of a guard to the royal family.” She looked down at the knife. She reached down with one hand, fingers laying flat around the blade and against Malta’s skin. She closed her eyes, pulling at the threads of magic she saw. The damage was extensive, nearly impossible to repair by herself. “I need Beriadis,” she said slowly. Víli hurried down the hall, his shouts reverberating through Erebor.

“M-my lady?”

“Shush, little one, it’ll be all right.” Freye concentrated on slowing the bleeding.

“I’m cold.” Freye looked the young dwarrowdam in the face. She was pale, far too pale. “I failed Jade.” She turned her head toward the younger dwarrowdam. The action took a lot out of her. She turned back to Freye. “I promised I would not leave her alone.”

“You won’t, just hold on,” Freye ordered. “I wish for you to serve at my side for years to come.”

The younger dwarrowdam smiled weakly, her hand slowly reaching to touch Freye’s and pull her away from the dagger. “I know wounds too. It’s too late.” Freye shook her head in denial. No, not on her watch. “Please, my lady, please see to Jade. See that she is taken care of.”

“She will have the best life I can arrange, I promise you that.” Freye put her hand back near the knife but the damage had been done. Too much blood had been lost in mere seconds. “You will be honored young one.”

“I did not do it for glory.” She looked at Freye, eyes starting to close. “I did it for hope, the hope you give us.” Her eyes slid closed. “Take care of her.”

The body in her arms stilled. Freye sobbed as the energy left the body, entering the mountain and passing on.

* * *

The alarms had been raised in the royal quarters. Thorin and Fíli met the guards and what Company they could find on the way. Beriadis came, claiming shouts of her name from Víli. They met the blond dwarrow as they neared the royal wing, his hand pushing against his own bleeding side.

“I’ve got him!” Óin called forward. He and Bofur caught the prince and lowered him down to field dress the wound. The other healers would be swarming the halls soon.

They came upon the guards next, injured and fighting weakness to stand and fight. Dwalin ordered five guards to see to the pair.

“Freye!” Fíli leapt over dead dwarrows to reach his wife. She sat, back bent, with a young dwarrowdam in her arms. The dwarrowdam did not move. “Freye?”

“She defended me,” Freye said softly.

“This one is still alive,” Dwalin reported. Thorin, who had checked first on his brother, moved to the dwarrow with a knife sticking out of his gut. The wound stunk, the innards sliced open. “Not for long.”

“Who did this?” Thorin demanded. The dwarrow shook from his place on the floor. “Who?!” Thorin made to grab the dagger, to twist it and extract the name by force.

The dwarrow managed a strangled, “Khuba,” before his head dropped to his chest limp.

“Ambassador Khuba of the Blacklocks,” Nori said as he appeared beside Thorin. “He must have just decided to do this. I have had him monitored since he started that fight last month.”

“I want him and his party arrested now. His companions we will give a chance,” Thorin said. “Get someone to clean up this mess.”

The healers were swarming the halls now. Fíli managed to separate Freye from her charge.

“A royal guard’s burial,” she told the healers. “She died protecting me. I will see no less given to her than what she deserves.”

“I’ll handle the arrangements, lass,” Dwalin said from a few feet away.

“Princess?” It was the heartbreaking voice of Jade. She turned to the youngest dwarrow present. Freye’s hand came up to cup her face and she leaned over the child, head brushing hers. “Malta?”

“I am sorry, young one, but I have given my word that you will be taken care of. Beriadis?” The elf looked upfrom stabilizing the broken arm. “She is my charge. You will treat her as such and see that others do as well. Nu’adad?” Thorin looked to her. “Permission to have her roomed in the royal quarters for now?”

“Balin, Ori.” The pair worked their way through the mess. “Balin, you know where the extended family rooms are. See her to one. Ori, I will need you in the throne room but can you send for her things quickly?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll stay with her,” Víli told Freye. “I’ll need to be treated.”

“Thank you, Agnât’adad.”

Thorin tried to keep Freye in the royal quarters with Fíli but she shook her head and led the way to the throne room. There was already a gathering of people, word of an attack spreading quickly. The accused ambassador was bound in chains and waiting. Several of his company stood behind him, bewildered looks on their faces. Sheet covered bodies of the attacking dwarrows laid in front of the throne.

When the full court was present, Thorin called it to session.

“We are here because there was an attack on the royal family,” Thorin bellowed. Angry murmurs worked their way through the crowd. “A group of dwarrows sent to kill those they found in the royal chambers. Two loyal guards were greatly injured. My brothers injured! A dwarrowdam not yet twenty injured! A dwarrowdam not yet mature killed defending the royal family! The dwarrows are dead.” Nori pulled the sheet back. One of the ambassador’s company, a dwarrowdam, screamed and babbled about her husband. One of the others grabbed her and held her close. The ambassador straightened his back and glared at Thorin. “Ambassador Khuba of the Blacklocks, you stand accused of attempted regicide, treason, and leading to the death and injury of fellow dwarrows. That dwarrow,” Thorin pointed to a body, “gave up your name in his death.” The dwarrowdam cried harder.

“I have nothing to say to you, oh mighty king,” Khuba replied. “You have no proof beside words that cannot be challenged.”

“Yes he does.” The whole of the court turned. A larger dwarrow stepped away from the ambassador’s company. “You have gone too far Khuba. We were sent for trade agreements and you attempted to kill the royal family? I remained silent when you spread rumors in the street, when you had our clanmates start fights with those loyal to King Thorin, but I will not step aside when you have attempted to kill the King Under the Mountain, the heir of Durin.” The dwarrow stepped past Khuba and faced the king. “He has plotted your downfall since we arrived. Myself and those that remain of the company only worked to strengthen trade. Those dead,” he cast his gaze to them, “blindly followed. Khuba speaks for the Blacklocks no longer, King Thorin.”

“And who are you to say such?” Thorin inquired. The disadvantage of visiting clans was the lack of knowledge. He had not seen more than a handful of Blacklocks in years.

“The son of Lord Globem of the Blacklocks, Kubem. My father wished to see what sort of king you were without the revelation of my identity, so he put Khuba in charge of our party. For that, I fear he will regret his choice greatly. I leave Khuba at your mercy, King Under the Mountain, but I ask that we are allowed to bury the dead with limited rites. They followed him blindly. Their permanent separation from their family in the afterlife would be too cruel a punishment for their ignorance.”

“Of that I will grant you,” Thorin declared. “Do you have a sentence you would pass on this traitor?”

“Death, my king, and dishonor,” Kubem replied. “His is Blacklock no longer.”

Thorin turned to the dwarrow in question. “Do you acknowledge your crimes now that you have no one to hide behind?”

“You are a weak king! You let oath-breakers and Men reside in our mountain! You blind yourself with your hobbit whore! Dwarrow-kind will be better off with your death. I am only sad they did not manage to kill one of those that mattered, like that mixed raced bitch.” His eyes bore a hole into Freye’s face.

“My lords,” Thorin said turning to his court, “your sentence?”

Balin stepped forward. “As most of us saw the evidence in person, we were with you before the confession. We remain with you.”

“My people, do you support death and dishonor for the filth that attempted to kill the royal family, who killed a dwarrowdam not yet into adulthood and injured another?”

Agreements filled the air.

“Who will offer their blade to shorn him?” Thorin’s call had many clammoring for their blades. Surprisingly, it was Dwalin that walked forward first with knife in hand. The guards held their prisoner tight. Dwalin stripped the dwarrow of his braids, hair, and beard. He let the loose hair fall to the ground before he looked at the braids. He offered the Blacklock one to Kubem.

“I accept this token and give it instead to the wife of one of the misguided for her to do with as she pleases.” He offered it to the sobbing dwarrowdam. She took it in her hand and marched forward. Another guard had a torch ready. She dropped it into the flames.

“I hope none in the Halls will ever speak your name.”

Dwalin distributed the others, keeping two for his injured guards, before he came to Freye. He held out three of the braids.

“Princess.”

“Burn them.” Dwalin nodded and dropped them into the torch.

“Who will be our blade?” Thorin called out. “Do any of the grieving wish to act as blade?”

“I will.” Thorin turned to see Freye, still covered in the blood of the dwarrowdam, stepping forward. Nori handed her a knife, the same knife that had stuck out of young Malta’s chest. She gripped the handle and walked forward. The shamed dwarrow stared her in the eyes as she stepped up. “On his knees.”

“Of course, Princess,” the guards said. They forced him down and pinned him there. Freye changed her grip on the knife.

“May your soul freeze in the depths of whatever dark afterlife you are destined for,” she hissed. She jammed the knife into his chest, into his heart.

She walked past him, through the crowd. Fíli ran after her, pulling her into his arms the second they reached the private halls headed for the royal wing. She hid her face in his neck and cried, whole body shaking.


	23. 5-3-2942, Erebor

5-3-2942, Erebor

The sound of the library door being shoved open with unnecessary force cause Ori to look up. He peered through the shelves of tomes he was organizing to see Freye storm in, dressed for court, and fall into a chair. She looked close to screaming. Ori placed the tomes in his hands down and walked over. He sat across from her as she placed both hands over her face.

“Long day?”

“You know Lord Larok?”

“That lord that’s been shifted between clans for the last century? Unfortunately. I had to restrain Nori after he insulted Dwalin. You think the lords would have learned from Khuba’s mistake and leave if they had a problem with what we do here.”

“You should have let Nori at him. We would never find the body,” she muttered. She sat back and rubbed at her face. “And I do not think there are any to miss him.”

“What has he done now?”

“He stated, quite vehemently, that I am not a fit companion for the Crown Prince due to my mixed blood and that the Clan of Wanderers is a worthless excuse of a clan that should be driven out of the mountain. He said this after Thorin had left court. There were only a few of us in the room, none of them of the Company.”

“If it makes you feel better, Nori is looking for a reason to have Thorin throw him out.” Freye smiled a little at that. “All right, you look like you could use some good news. Do you have a bit of free time?”

“Most of the afternoon, though I do have to tutor Jade later.”

“Let me grab a few things and then we can leave. I was nearly done here for the day and this news should be said out of public hearing.” He walked over to the main desk, Freye following a few paces behind. “How is Jade?”

“Restless as all dwarflings her age,” Freye replied, “but grieving. She lost the last family she had. She’s trying to put on a brave face but I can see through it. I understand though. It was hard enough when I lost my parents and I was older and had family to take me in. She’s having to start all over.”

“She has you at least.”

“She does, and Fíli. He’s been a strong presence surprisingly. He gave her a dagger to protect herself.”

“Have you found her a sponsor yet or will you sponsor her directly?” The exited the library and took one of the back halls toward the royal chambers. There were many halls hidden in cracks and shadows that the Company and Nori’s spies used to navigate the mountain.

“I think I have her sponsor and without even trying,” Freye mused. She tussled her hair and rubbed her face again. She could use a nap. “My intention was to introduce her to Balin in hopes he and Dwalin might sponsor both Jade and Malta under their house. Malta would have made an excellent guard and Jade has a sharp mind already. Balin took it upon himself to sit with her over the past few weeks, doing his work in her chambers when he could. He seems to calm her down.”

“Do you think he will adopt her then?” Ori inquired.

“It is a very real possibility, but I think he will wait until Sigin’amad arrives to make that decision. For now, he has made arrangements for Jade to move into the spare room in his chambers so she has someone near at night and is protected. I trust him to watch over her.”

They talked of many small things for the rest of their walk, like Nori and Dwalin’s preparation for their child or children (neither had the nerves to ask Freye to check for them). The pair had seen to more permanent quarters, just an expansion of the ones they had taken actually, and the planning of a nursery. There were rumors among the guards that Dwalin was going soft; typically such statements ended with a dwarrow nursing a fine headache the next day.

The pair entered the common room of the royal chambers. Ori set himself up at the table while Freye went to the small royal kitchen to obtain tea and cookies. She returned with a platter of them to share and set it on the table beside the fire where Ori had set up his things. He had small book in his hand, a handwritten journal actually.

“My news is about your family history,” Ori told her. Freye sat back in her chair. She had been both anticipating and dreading the day she would learn the truth of her family heritage. From what Bifur had been able to tell her, her great-grandmother had been running from something a past that seemed to follow her wherever she went. It had led to her nearly not marrying her great-grandfather, the shame of being from a name-less father holding her back. “Isolde’s bead gave me the information I needed. It was the fine details that held the truth. I’ve actually known for a few weeks but I haven’t known how to tell you.”

“Is it good or is it bad, Ori?”

“Depends on your point of view,” Ori replied. “And who you tell.” He let out a deep sigh and opened the journal. He had the bead drawn on the sheet. There were notes about the design coming off from it. He turned the next page and the same bead was drawn again, but with an identical bead beside it. “Isolde had a sister. The marks of the mother and the father are the same. The mother’s mark is her name. The father’s is a placehold, a symbol that, when shown to the right people, tells exactly who it is. This one belongs to the Line of Durin, the direct royal family that is. This part here means grey, so I assume that means he originally heralded from the Grey Mountains. It fits a logical timeline for your line, it would have been right after Durin’s Folk’s return to Erebor. This part here, it’s the symbol for a cold-drake. Together, it means a royal that fought and survived a cold-drake in the Grey Mountains. The same marks appear on this bead, her sister’s bead.”

“Ori you’re dancing around the truth. You know more than you are telling. If I am from a bastard line, so be it. Anything you tell me is better than not knowing who my family was.”

Ori grimaced and scratched his head. “It’s not so much a bastard line. Both sisters were recognized but they could not claim their father by name due to the Council of Lords. I should just start at the beginning. The mother’s name is Deri. She was an orphan from the Grey Mountains who came to Erebor with the survivors after a great cold-drake attacked the Grey Mountains and killed the queen and Dáin I’s middle son.” He fiddled with the edge of the paper. “The father was Dáin the First. Deri acted as his keeper for many years and they developed a relationship. Since Dáin was married before, the lords refused another marriage but allowed for a consort.”

“I’m marrying a cousin.”

“Technically, yes, but don’t worry too much about it. Between how far removed you are and the hobbit bit in you, your blood is varied enough that any child born of your union should be healthy and happy. Besides, it is not unusual for distant cousins to find matches in each other.”

“How am I going to tell Fíli or Thorin?”

“I already know.” The pair spun in their chairs to see Thorin in the doorway. He held an empty cup of tea in one hand. “I smelled the fresh tea, may I?” Freye nodded and poured him the cup. He sat down across from them. “After I saw the bead, the day Ori drew it, I was reminded of something my grandfather once told me. I will fill in the gaps you have left, Ori, when you are done, but please tell her. I think if you do, you’ll both understand why I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“Uh, right.” Ori cleared his throat and sat up in his chair. “Isolde was the older of the two sisters. After her came Fori. When Isolde was old enough to join the trade caravans, she did. She sought to make her way and her sister’s way without the use of royal funds. She sent much of her wages to Fori in those years, hoping her sister would move out of the house and live independently. Fori received the money, but it was put in a fund by Thrór for when she had reached majority. Isolde never knew that her mother died years before Fori’s majority. For all the letters Isolde sent, Fori and Deri never replied. Fori had felt betrayed. It was years later that Thrór discovered Fori had not informed Isolde of her new living conditions, and he informed Isolde and said he would see to the care of their sister. Isolde was not heard from again.

“Fori had been placed with a lord of Thrór’s council, a trusted advisor of his father who took Fori under his wing after Dáin’s death. Fori taught the lord’s children and acted like a keeper in the household. When she had grown into her maturity, the lord took advantage of her. She became pregnant when she was one hundred and five. Lord Farin, the grandfather of Balin, Dwalin, Óin, and Glóin, discovered the abuse and brought charges upon the lord. Thrór did more than just shorn him; he was executed for his acts against the Line of Durin. His family lost their status, and all property and wealth was given to Fori as recompense. Fori joined Lord Farin’s household and helped him around the house, his eyes failing in his old age.

“Fori birthed a dwarrowdam, Lori. When Smaug came, she went to the Iron Hills. Fori found work where she could, and Lori became a weaver. Fori died during a rough winter of starvation, giving what food she had to Lori. Lori continued to live in the Iron Hills for some time. She married an Iron Hills miner and bore one son before the miner died in a cave in. She swore miners off from then on. After a few years, she left for the Blue Mountains.

“Unfortunately, she did not have enough money to pay her passage for the whole journey. The caravan leader offered to let her continue on with them if he performed certain services for him.” Ori turned green at the thought.

“Please tell me someone killed him,” Freye whispered.

“Aye, Dwalin did. He was still a lad but was big enough and battle-hardened enough to be a guard. He saw her to the Blue Mountains where Lori discovered she was pregnant with the caravan leader’s child. Her first sone was happy to have a little brother, doting on him and constantly telling him to stop getting in trouble. The second son had sticky fingers, you see.” Ori cleared his throat again, nursing his cup for a few moments.

“Lori found companionship with a widower in Thorin’s Halls. The man loved the boys like his own sons. He was set to marry Lori when, just a few weeks from the wedding day, there was a fight in one of the mines. He was a guard, you see, and died in the skirmish. The sons never received a father’s name; he had intended to give all three his own. Lori’s third child was born fatherless and motherless; she died shortly after birth. The oldest brother raised the youngest like a son, working hard in the guilds despite being underage. Thanks to Lady Dís, he found housing with the Guild Head, a kindly old dwarrowdam that kept a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs. The middle son resorted to stealing what he could to help, first food and then money and other things. The third son was taken under the wing of Balin to become a scribe though he had his mother’s knack for knitting.”

Ori trailed off then. She reached over to the young dwarrow, took his fingers in hand, and squeezed gently. His eyes found hers, wide with worry.

“The three brothers are you, Nori, and Dori.” Ori hesitated before giving a nod. “You are my family, my cousins.”

“We are, if you will have us.”

Freye laughed and pulled him in for a hug. Ori melted into the embrace and hugged her back. Freye turned to Thorin. “You knew?”

“I remembered something. My grandfather, shortly after we met Brynye for the first time, told me of great aunts I had, not by name but by the beads. I checked the family history book and I can confirm what Ori said.”

“Why did Isolde leave? Why did no one look for her?”

“They did,” Thorin replied. “Isolde felt different because she was not acknowledged as a child of Dáin by the Court, almost betrayed. She wanted to make a name for herself. Dáin nicknamed her the Raven Wanderer, for her hair and wandering tendencies. He sent royal messengers along from time to time, kept tabs on her. The year she died, they noticed her absence from the caravans. Men were sent out, the attack discovered. They could find no greater lead than the ones that the Ur family had.

“As for Fori’s side, Thrór regretted not protecting her better for most of his life. We sent Fori to the Iron Hills thinking she would be safer there in an established settlement but those first few decades were rough wherever they went. I only learned the truth after Lori had come to Ered Luin and Dís had a chance to talk with her.” His eyes drifted up to the door. Ori and Freye turned to see Dwalin walking in with Fíli and the other Brothers Ri.

“As it stands, the Ri family line is being officially recognized as a Line of Durin, proper titles attached as well. Congratulations, Cousin Dori, you’re a lord of equal to Balin and Óin now.”

“You told them,” Nori realized.

“I only meant to tell Freye,” Ori replied. “Thorin knew.”

“I wanted to see what you all would do,” Thorin replied. “I did not want to surprise you all.”

“As if we wouldn’t accept family!” Dori scoffed. He hurried forward to hug his wayward cousin. “Welcome to the family.”

“Thanks Dori.”

Nori weaseled his way through and hugged her as well. “Proud to have you kiddo.”

“Thanks Nori.”

“What have I missed?” Fíli asked.

“Isolde, my great-grandmother, was the daughter of Dáin I. Isolde was also the sister of Fori, the grandmother of Dori, Nori, and Ori,” Freye replied.

“We’re related,” Fíli realized.

“Distantly,” Dori reassured. “Very little blood shared between you. No need to worry.”

“That’s right. I traced Freye’s mother’s line, no Longbeards in the family tree. Víli was a Longbeard. Fifur was a Broadbeam. No other possible relatives.”

“That’s reassuring,” Fíli murmured. He leaned down and kissed Freye’s cheek. “No worries for children then.”

“One day,” Freye promised.

“Now then, onto other business before I forget,” Thorin began. “Laurinion Thranduilion will be coming to Erebor just prior to the arrival of the caravan. He seems to want to surprise his brother and Tauriel here as well as foster old relations. From the message I received, it also seems he wishes to irritate his father. I remember him vaguely from my youth. Dís would known him better. She followed Legolas and Laurinion around when they visited.”

“Mother did?” Fíli questioned.

“She liked the flutes they played,” Thorin replied, as if that was enough of an answer. Freye laughed at the bewildered look that developed on Fíli’s face.


	24. 6-28-2942, Erebor

6-28-2942, Erebor

“Tilda!” The shout caught the young princess’s attention. She spun around until she saw Freye approaching. The young princess pulled on Sigrid’s hand before darting through the dining hall to reach her. Freye laughed as she picked the princess up, spinning her around and tusseling her hair gently. Sigrid weaved through the dwarrow lords, elven delegates, and the growing number of appointed lords of Dale.

The resettlement of Dale had been completed just a few short weeks ago. The hard work of elves, dwarrows, and men had rebuilt the city and the continued improvements would bring Dale back to its former glory. Tilda had been one of the last of Dale to leave the mountain, her safety a larger concern than her presence in Dale. Still, Freye had not seen either princess since the youngest’s departure. She had missed them greatly.

Freye set the younger of the two princesses down and hugged the elder before fixing Tilda’s braids. “I think you have grown, little one.”

“You’re just saying that,” Tilda replied. “Is it true that Prince Legolas has a brother? I heard Da talking about trade agreements.”

“Indeed, Prince Legolas does have a brother, Crown Prince Laurinion. It is said he has better relations with Erebor before the dragon than his father did. From what Víli and Frerin have told me, he is a good elf, one that can be trusted.”

“Does he look like Leggy?” Tilda asked. Sigrid groaned, hand over her face, at Tilda’s insufferable nickname for the younger elven prince. Freye and the majority of the Company found the nickname entertaining. Legolas had never corrected Tilda and so Prince Leggy remained.

Freye caught sight of Laurinion approaching. He seemed healthy for an elf that had been held by orcs for decades. He motioned for her silence before saying, “If it pleases the young Princess of Dale, she can turn around and find out for herself.”

Tilda let out an eep and spun around to face the elf. She strained her neck to look up, Laurinion’s height closely matching his father’s own. His hair was a smidge darker than Thranduil’s, closer to Legolas’s shade really. The similarities between the two brothers were noticable but Laurinion had an etheral beauty all of his own.

“Laurinion of the Greenwood at your service Princess Tilda, Princess Sigrid. Your father spoke highly of you during the meetings today.” He gave them both a small bow and they curtsied in turn. “Princess Freye.” His lips twitched in a smile. “I was under the impression that even dwarven women wore dresses and yet you resemble one of the guards in dress.”

“I have not had a chance to get a proper wardrobe for functions like this,” Freye admitted. “Besides that, I greatly dislike skirts; they’re too confining. This is my ceremonial armor, Thorin approved.”

“I did not say that it looked bad. In fact, I think it is a better tradition. Even I detest having my legs confined.” He pulled at the longer panels of his outfit.

“Did you finish torturing Víli? He’s looked forward to sparring with you since your company was spotted leaving the woods.”

“Any torture I inflicted he gave back with gusto. He regained his muscles far faster than I anticipated and fought like a true warrior despite only having one arm. He says you were one of his trainers, Princess.”

“Along with Dwalin and Fíli. While this may be a state dinner, Prince Laurinion, I request you call me Freye. I destest being called Princess or Lady; I grew up simply.”

“Will you defend me form the ire of your kith and kin?”

“As if by the end of the night you will not be calling the Urs by their names and at least Nori and Ori. You already call Víli and Frerin by theirs. If anyone takes issue with it, they would out voted before their complaints could be heard.” She smiled as she spotted her husband walking toward the table. “Besides, even my husband asks for people to refrain from calling him Prince Fíli, too many years as a prince-in-exile has made such words painful to hear.”

“If I am granted such an honor, then you must call me Laurinion. Now then, I believe supper is about to be served. Shall we?”

The three princesses nodded and walked with Laurinion to the table. They found their assigned places, Freye helping Tilda into her heavy wood and stone chair, before hugging Bard in a brief greeting. She took her seat beside Fíli who sat on the left of Thorin. Across from Freye, Tilda stared at the wide array of food on the table. The three new Lords of Dale, descendents of old lords, sat flanking the Dale Royal Family. Laurinion sat flanked by the two elves that served on Thranduil’s court. There were several elven guards placed among the dwarven ones in the room. Erebor’s Council of Lords filled out othe rest of the table with Lord Larok, a reluctantly invited guest, sat as far from the royal families as possible (Balin’s doing).

Supper started, polite conversation about state matters and what should be discussed in the coming weeks of political meetings opening the dinner. Soon enough, the group moved on to talking about families and entertaining little tales. One of the other Lords of Erebor, Thelrok, spoke of the misadventures of his daughter’s attempt at courting a young lad from the Broadbeam Clan. Bofur offered up sage advice on just where the young lass might have gone wrong.

The majority of the table, with the exception of Nori, Freye, and Dwalin, barely noticed Larok slip out of the room just before dessert, claiming illness as he moved away from the table. His departure was a boon to the table, those around it relaxing greater without the constant presence of the irritating dwarrow.

Dessert was brought out, placed in front of each diner. Most of the table was too busy talking to begin eating. Freye stole a bite of the blueberry dish between conversations with Laurinion and Fíli. She swallowed the bite, noting the bitterness now that the cream was out of her mouth. She lifted one of the blueberries up with her fork. Across the table and down a few places, Bombur was inspecting his dish with prejudice. Freye brought her eyes up to see Tilda, fork in hand, ready to eat a piece.

“No Tilda!” She lunged across the table and knocked it out of her hand. She sent every bowl of the dessert that she could reach to the floor, her own included. Fíli was on his feet in a moment, hands steadying her. Óin let out a shout from his place, pushing his plate and Glóin’s away. Bombur had snagged Bofur’s and the plates in front of the Lords of Dale.

“Freye did you eat any?” Bombur demanded. His eyes were wild. She barely found it in her to nod, leaning into Fíli who grew concerned. “Óin!”

“Fíli get her to the Halls of Healing, now,” the elder dwarrow ordered. “Someone find Beriadis, I’ll need her. No one touch that dessert. Tilda, lass, did you have any?” The healer had moved down the table to stand beside Tilda’s chair.

“I licked the frosting,” she replied.

“And it’s drenched in that damned sauce,” Freye hissed.

“I’ll take her to the halls,” Bombur said. The lumbering dwarrow picked her up and headed for the door. Fíli picked Freye up, arms firm as she leaned her head against his shoulder and clutched her stomach.

“We’ll see to her,” Óin promised Bard. “Nori! Get your followers to find Beriadis now!”

“Already ordered,” Nori replied. The dwarrows rushed out of the room, leaving Bard and the others in confusion. Laurinion inspected the dish closer before pushing it away.

“Do you know what they speak of?” Thorin inquired of him.

“A poison and one that make be fatal if not acted quickly on,” Laurinion replied. “Deadly nightshade, Thorin. If the berries were replaced, undoubtedly so were the berries used for the sauce. We are lucky it was discovered that quickly.”

“At the risk of two lives, it is not quick enough,” Thorin replied. He stood, looking to Dwalin and Nori. “The one I suspect has recently left this room, Larok. He has done nothing but bettlite us since his arrival and demean the royal family. I would bet my beard that this is his doing. I never believed he would go this far, not after the incident with Khuba.”

“They never learn,” Dwalin snarled. “Bofur, Balin, Dori, go to the kitchen and interrogate the staff. One of them most know something. Nori with me. We have a traitor to catch.”

“Thorin, if you will allow, my lords and guards will go with them. They can cover the exits,” Laurinion offered. Thorin gave his approval and the elves left with half the dwarven guards and the rather irrate Dwalin and Nori.

Thorin’s attention moved to Víli and Frerin, both shaking with anger. Tevrom looked no less angry but was reassuring young Sigrid before leading her to her sister where she might be of aid. Glóin barked for the plates to be taken away and incinerated. Bard had not moved, his eyes boring into the table. He flexed his hand, as if going for a weapon. Laurinion stood up, drawing the eyes of Thorin and Bard as he did.

“To the Halls of Healing, then?” suggested the elf. “I will lend what aid I can.”

“I need to be with my son and Freye,” Víli answered. Frerin helped him to his feet and steadied the worried dwarrow.

“I should have gone with her instead of waiting,” Bard whispered. He stood up, legs unsteady, and using his chair for support.

“We will go there now,” Thorin agreed. He turned to the rest of lords at the table, eyes settling on Thelrok. “Convene an emergency tribunal held in the throne room,” Thorin instructed. “We will deal with this traitor before night’s end and the people of the North will witness his trial.”

“Agreed.” Thelrok turned to the lords around him, giving orders and heading off.

In the Halls, Freye had gulped down a nasty concoction guaranteed to make the strongest bellied dwarrow puke. Fíli held her upright as she lost the contents of her dinner into a waste bin. Tilda was convinced to do the same with a less potent concoction. Sigrid held her little sister close and held her braids clear of the vomit. Beriadis entered the room while Óin gathered his supplies. Her first instinct was to approach the Princess Under the Mountain.

“You will treat her first,” Freye said. She pointed at Tilda with a shaking hand. “I may have ate more but I can fight longer than a child.”

“With the dose you took?” Óin scoffed. “We will need another elf. You are already shaking. Think you’re done puking?” Freye stared at the bucket before nodding. “Take this then.” He handed her another nasty mix, one that tasted like charcoal and left a thick coating on her tongue. He handed her two more small cups and then a large mug of water. Fíli helped her drink the small cups before getting her to sip the large mug of water. Then, Fíli helped her out of her layers until she was in her tunic and trousers. Tilda, undressed to her shift, cried from the intense cramping in her stomach. Beriadis gave her an elven potion before start to weave a spell that would ease the pain. Sigrid sang to Tilda softly, rocking her sister in her arms.

“Freye, hey, look at me,” Fíli prompted when he felt her begin to drift. It took her a few moments to look at him, wide eyed and drugged as she was. He wanted to know what exactly Óin had given her, certainly something stronger than what Beriadis had given Tilda. He could see Freye’s pulse jumping against her neck. “Take my hand, squeeze it for me.”

“Fee?” Her voice drawled, sleepily.

“Right here. I need you to take my hand and squeeze as hard as you can.” Óin checked her reaction time with each sentence. She moved her hand slowly, not toward his hand, but to his face. She patted it, smiling as she did.

“Handsome,” she murmured. “So handsome. I love your eyes, your hair, your many knives. I love Fíli.” She giggled and let out a light shushing sound. “Don’t tell him, haven’t told him yet.” Fíli’s head snapped around to Óin.

“Mahal’s beard, how much nightshade was used? I need another elf!” he shouted loud enough that those in the outer halls would surely hear.

“Then it is good that I have arrived,” Laurinion said as he entered the room. Bard, Thorin, Víli, and Frerin followed. Víli pulled his son away and onto a bench to wait while Laurinion approached the delierious princess. He worked up several more potions, easing them past barely parted lips. The spells he wove were longer and sent her to an uneasy sleep. Óin placed a cool compress on her forehead, cursing lowly.

Silence reigned almost unchalleged. Tilda’s crying had died off and she fell into a fitful state of unconsciousness. Her skin, paler than Bard had ever seen even when she was a wee sick babe, was only a little warmer than normal. Sigrid changed the cool compress on her forehead frequently.

Freye was worse, chest heaving in short fast breaths. Bombur had brought one of the desserts to the room, confiring with Laurinion and Bombur as to the quantity of the nightshade contained. After a thorough examination, it was no surprise at the dwarrowdam’s state. The few times she surfaced from the sleeping spell, she was delirious and hallucinating.

Laurinion sent Beriadis to find members of his visiting party to return to the Greenwood for more medicine. Thorin volunteered a raven to send a message ahead so that riders might meet them at the forest and bring the medicine back faster. Balin went to send the raven, the letter with Laurinion’s instructions in hand.

Thorin broke the silence as Laurinion moved away from the pair. “How are they?”

“Tilda will recover,” Laurinion promised. “The lick she took was small. Her piece had blessedly little of that sauce upon it. She will be weak for a few days but will recover quickly. The herbs I sent for will improve her condition as well.”

“And Freye?” Víli held his son tighter as the lad’s voice cracked.

“I need the herbs I’ve sent for to guarantee her health,” the Prince replied. “Right now, it is a battle of wills. The one advantage she has is her hobbit heritage. There are few things a hobbit can consume that will kill them. To kill a hobbit, one would have had to eat the entire dish. A single bite the size she consumed would have killed any at the table, elf included, without immediate treatment and the herbs I have sent for. The next few days will be telling.”

The door was shoved open. The assembled group turned to see Dwalin striding in, blood on his knuckles but grinning fiercely.

“Nori and the elven lords are holding the prisoner in the throne room with the evidence, Thorin. Three of the kitchen staff are dead, they were partaking in the leftover pieces, had eaten them whole by Balin’s arrival. They were also the ones that cooked the pies. Other staff members said Larok had come into the great kitchen requesting a small meal earlier in the day with a basket. He must have switched them then. The rest of the berries were found in the trash.”

“Bard, Laurinion, will you accompany me?” Thorin inquired. “The crime was against three kingdoms and a trial should include you both.”

“I will remain here,” Laurinion replied, “for their sakes. My lords may act in my place. I support their decisions.” He turned back toward the princesses. Thorin’s eyes looked to Víli, Frerin, and Fíli.

“I will take Fíli’s place and stand for the acts against Freye,” Víli said. He stood up, squeezing his son’s shoulders, before stepping away. Frerin joined Víli. “Stay with her, son. Let her know you are here.”

“I want his braids burned,” Fíli told his uncle. “Burned before his eyes.”

“It will be done,” Thorin promised.

“Tilda needs me, but Da should go,” Sigrid said. Bard gave a small nod, kissing the foreheads of both of his children before standing and joining the departing group. Óin remained in the Halls as well, looking for any herb he may have missed in his stores that may help.

The trio entered the throne room, the crowds chattering, half angry and half worried. Thorin marched to the throne without waiting for the official announcement of his arrival. He did not bother sitting down either, sitting would have made his temper worse. Balin and Bombur laid out the evidence of the poisoning for all to hear. Nori reported his findings in Larok’s chambers. Dwalin reported the altercation that led to the dwarrow’s arrest. He stood, hands bound before him with guards holding both arms tightly, glaring a hole into Thorin’s head.

“Does the accused have anything to say for himself?” Thorin demanded.

“I should have just put it in the wine!” the disgraced dwarrow shouted. “Are they dead yet? Who did I get? The prince isn’t here, neither is his bastard of a wife, and both of those little harlots from Dale are absent. The Prince of Mirkwood as well. Did I manage them all? Good riddance! Letting that filth enter this mountain. This is a dwarven kingdom and it will be purified. Khuba was too hasty, desiring far too much bloodshed. No, to take out a line of royals poison is the best way to go!” He shouted it as if giving instructions to others. The crowd stirred with unrest, a few calling for the dwarrow’s blood already.

“Erebor is mine to rule,” Thorin retorted. “I am her rightful king and my word is law! Freye has loyally served the Line of Durin, nearly giving life and limb for it time and time again. I fostered relations with Dale and the Greenwood to improve our way of life, so that we will not fall the next time someone dares to attack Erebor. You would doom us all for your petty bigotry? Are you that much of a fool?

“I would doom any kingdom that allowed a pointy-eared halfling to be crowned consort and would see its princes marry a mixed breed whelp and a treeshagger!”

“Do you deny the charges?”

“Never. I will be welcomed in Mahal’s Halls as a hero and you a villain!”

“You are wrong,” Thorin replied tersely. “Mahal would never want this. His wife is Yavanna, the Mother of the Hobbits. You have wronged them both by striking tonight.” He turned toward the crowds and the Council of Lords. “Will you approve of any sentence I hand down?”

Thelrok stepped forward, representing those not of the Company, whose loyalty would have already claimed Thorin’s support. “We demand his head, my king. He nearly slaughtered the leadership of three kingdoms. Have him shorn and executed. Let his body be not entombed in stone. Let him never return to the stone he was born from.”

Thorin nodded to the lords. He turned to Bard even as the death of the traitor was called for by the crowds. They quieted as Thorin addressed the King of Dale.

“Will you agree with such a sentence?”

“I’d do it myself if you gave me my bow,” Bard replied. Thorin nodded and turned to the elves. The elder of the two stepped forward.

“We do not often execute criminals,” he remarked, “but there are crimes that are unforgivable and what this disgrace of a living being has done is among them. We will stand by your decision.”

“Who will offer their blade to shorn him?!” Thorin’s call rang through the air.

The voice Thorin expected was Víli, or perhaps even Frerin, both would have been eager to punish the dwarrow. The answering voice was younger, full of rage. It was Ori. He held Nori’s favorite blade in hand, and he spoke, “I will.” Thorin nodded.

“And I will join him,” Víli added. He held one of his own, forged by Fíli and Freye together as a welcome home gift. Thorin motioned them forward. Dwalin and several other guards reinforced those holding the prisoner tightly in place. Ori and Víli shaved the disgraced dwarrow bald, their blades nicking skin as they worked. When finished, Balin offered a torch to the guard that had gathered the shorn hair. Víli took the bowl of hair and tossed its contents into the flames.

“Who will be our blade?” Thorin called out. “In the place of Prince Fíli, rightful executioner of this scum, who sits at his wife’s side, your princess, the Lady of Wanderers, descendent of Dáin the First, who has proven her love of Erebor and her people time and time again, who will be my nephew’s blade?”

A softer whisper ran through the crowd. Thorin had not made a public announcement of the origins of the Line of Ri yet, intending to do so on Durin’s Day, but the increased anger of the crowd surved its purpose.

“I will be the blade.”

The crowd hushed. It was a thickly accented voice, one used to mines and hard labor. Eyes turned to the dark haired dwarrow taking a sword from the scabbard in Dori’s hands. Bofur gripped the handle firmly as he stepped forward. Thoring knew that sword well; it was the one Brynye had passed down to Freye. It was the sword that Fíli had fought with on Ravenhill. It was the sword of Fifur, of Themur, and now in his cousin’s place, it would be Bofur’s sword to enact vengeance with.

“My King.”

“Bofur, Cousin of Princess Freye, Lord of Erebor, you step forward to deliver justice?”

“Yes, my King. I will be her sword, Prince Fíli’s sword, and your own.” Thorin gave him a sad smile. He hated to see such a jolly dwarrow look so dark. Dwalin forced Larok over, his neck exposed for a clean cut, something most of the lords believed was too kind a punishment. The traitor reared up, slamming into Dwalin’s chest with his head and knocking him back a few feet. He launched toward Bofur who lashed out, Thorin drawing Orcrist as the traitor slid past them and charged again.

The twang of an arrow pierced the air as Bofur and Thorin swung their swords in an arc toward the traitorous lord. It was hard to tell what killde him first, the arrow from Bard to the heart—bow and arrow borrowed from an elf--, the loss of his head delivered by Bofur, or the bisection at his waist delivered by Thorin. Larok fell in three pieces to the floor, his head rolling to a stop at Dwalin’s feet.

“Burn the bastard,” Thorin snarled.

“Right away, my king,” Dwalin promised. He motioned his men forward. A cart appeared and the remains thrown in. Thorin turned back to the crowd as Bard relinquished the bow and Bofur cleaned the blade and slid it back into the scabbard.

“Actions such as these will not be tolerated in Erebor! We have just returned home. Would you risk Erebor for bigotry? Erebor is the home of all who wish it, be they dwarrow, man, hobbit, or elf. I would welcome an Ent into these halls before I welcome a bigot such as that creature. I will not tolerate such hate under this mountain.”

Thorin’s declaration was met with cheers. Thorin returned to the Company and the lords.

“I’m going to be sick,” Bofur said soft enough that the crowds would not hear. Thorin motioned to Bombur and Tevrom who carted the miner off to puke in private.

News spread fast. By the next day, everyone in the mountain knew better than to act on old bigotry of a bygone era. Two executed lords proved Thorin would not tolerate such hate under his mountain. Bard and Laurinion made announcements to their own people and echoed the promise Thorin gave, no bigotry would be tolerated in Dale or the Greenwood, even if Laurinion had to hit his father over the head with the lesson. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just a note. This is the last chapter the last chapter that I had a full copy of an old version of it. I have half a version completed for the next chapter and nothing from there on out. So, yeah, chaos.


	25. 7-2-2942, The Gates of Erebor

7-2-2942, The Gates of Erebor

The caravan from the Blue Mountains had not been met with fanfare expected for such a joyous occasion. The lords of Dale had sent the caravan ahead as quickly as they could, an issue in Erebor that should see the Princes and Princess returned to the mountain as soon as possible. Dís would not leave the caravan though, not this close to the mountain. They pushed on and were met by the somber faces of guards and members of the Company.

Dwalin and Glóin seemed to be leading the dwarrows in charge of greeting the caravan. A few shouts and a group of elves moves forward to help their kin from Rivendell unpack. Dwalin weaved his way through the wagons until he reached Bilbo and the others.

“Where is Thorin? We were told something happened and to push for Erebor.” Bilbo’s words were met by Dwalin’s saddened look. Dís and Kíli stood behind him, Brynye weaving her way forward as well.

“It is a long story,” Dwalin answered. “Glóin and Bombur will see to the caravan. It would be best if you followed me.” He looked at Bifur, Dís, Kíli, Bilbo, and Brynye. After a moment his eyes moved to the two elves closest to them, Legolas and Tauriel, and gave them a look that invited them as well. He caught Bain ducking between groups and held the boy down. “Bain, your friends can see to the wagon. You need to come with us.”

“Yes Master Dwalin.”

Dwalin turned his head until he spotted Elladan and Elrohir standing beside young Estel and a woman. “Lady Gilraen?”

“Yes, Master Dwarf?”

“I ask that Lords Elladan and Elrohir show you and young Estel to your rooms. Turidis can show you to them. When you have finished, it may be in your best interest to join us in the Halls of Healing.”

Kíli spoke first, bewildered. “Why would they--?” Suddenly, something dawned on him and he was gone in a flash with Bilbo and Tauriel a few mere paces behind him. Bain took a moment longer to put it together and broke into a run following them.

The doors to the Halls were open, fresh air running through. Kíli slid around the corner and froze at the sight of his brother sitting beside Freye’s bed. His heart seemed frozen in his chest at the sight of young Tilda in the bed beside hers. The only thing that restarted his heart was the sight of Tilda’s eyes open and Freye’s chest rising and falling.

“What’s happened?” he demanded. Thorin spun to see his nephew there. He moved forward and pulled his nephew in for a firm hug before guiding him over to Fíli’s side. He knelt beside the bed, one hand touching Fíli’s knee and the other coming up to hold Freye’s hand. Her skin was unnaturally warm for hobbit or dwarrow. “Brother?”

“She’ll recover,” Fíli promised. Bilbo and Tauriel slid into the room, Bilbo stumbling forward. “Her fever broke last night.”

“By the Green Lady,” Bilbo breathed. Thorin caught his husband and pulled him in tight. Bilbo didn’t pull away. He clung to Thorin’s shirt. “Thorin?”

“Best wait for the others, my dearest.” Thorin acknowledged Tauriel as she passed him, moving to stand behind Fíli. Fíli reached back to greet her, She squeezed his hand back.

Bain and Bifur ran in next with Legolas steps behind them. Bifur let out a harsh cry of despair. Legolas was barely able to get his arms under Bifur’s shoulders before the dwarrow lost control of his legs. He helped the dwarrow to a bed and stood beside him. Bain stammered Tilda’s name as he stumbled toward her bed. Bard caught him and calmed the shaking boy before he was guided to the bedside. Tilda pulled him onto the bed and he held her close.

The last to arrive were Brynye and Dís with Dwalin trailing behind them. Dís and Dwalin barely caught Brynye as she fell toward the floor. She had never seen her granddaughter so pale, not even after the trolls. She wanted to scream at Thorin. Erebor was supposed to be safe. He was supposed to look out for her. She said nothing, just let Dwalin carry her over to the bedside, and nodded at Bard as he produced a chair for the grandmother to sit in.

“She will live,” Thorin promised Brynye. “It was a hard fought battle for her life, but she is as stubborn as any Durin.”

“What happened, Brother? Your last letters spoke of good health all around and there are not enough wounded for this to have been a battle,” Dís reasoned.

“Larok,” Thorin answered. For Dís, well versed in dwarrow court politics, this answered a great many things. The old windbag had tried to have her remarried once and it had not ended favorably for him. “He was not happy with how we ran the mountain. Nori had been hunting for proof of treason for weeks to get rid of him, but he was too late. We never thought he would do this, not have Khuba’s attempt. He switched the blueberries out for deadly nightshade after the cooks, including Bombur, had tasted them. Bombur had left the cooking to his companions. Freye took one large bite of her dessert before realizing what had happened. Her hobbit side gave her a better fighting chance than an elf, man, or dwarrow would have had of a similar bite. Tilda only tasted a little of the sauce, what was on the cream she tried.”

“Where is he?” Brynye demanded. Her hands shook. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”

“Bofur, Bard, and I beat you to that,” Thorin informed her. “He was shorn and his hair burned. He was executed and then burned. He will not see Mahal’s Halls.” That was enough for Brynye. She took her granddaughter’s hand and squeezed it gently.

“Oh my little adventurer.”

Soft as a breeze, between barely parted lips, came, “S’amad.”

Fíli sat up straighter, calling her name gently. There was a twitch. “Can you squeeze my hand?” he asked. Kíli gave him the hand he had been holding. A soft pressure against his hand made him smile. “That’s good. Now can you open your eyes?”

It took a long moment, one where no one dared to breathe, but her eyes slowly fluttered and opened. She whined at the brightness. Legolas killed one of the lanterns near him and she seemed grateful as she relaxed against the pillows. Freye looked to Fíli and then over to Brynye. The confusion on her face made the group laugh gently before she squeezed the hand her grandmother held. She turned her head slowly, looking at her cousins and friends.

“Not dead then.” Those present gave a soft laugh. “Tilda?”

“Here.” The princess turned to the little girl. Tilda gave her a little wave and smiled. “You helped save me.”

Freye found enough strength to smile before moving her head back to where it had rested. “Still sleepy.”

“Rest,” Fíli instructed. “You’ve earned it and someone will be here when you wake.”

“Nu’adad?”

“Yes?” Thorin came a little closer with Bilbo still wrapped around him.

“You tell Dís and Kíli and Bofur yet?” She giggled just a little. “She try to kill you yet? Or Leggy and Tauri? Wish I could see it but shouldn’t wait. You tell ‘em and I’ll sleep.” She closed her eyes again but opened them after a moment. “And Bilbo! Don’t forget to tell him about the secret!” She smiled lazily before drifting back off to sleep. Brynye stroked her forehead and lamented the delirium her granddaughter was still clearly suffering.

“Did that make sense to you?” Bilbo inquired.

“It did,” Thorin answered. “But I do not know how to address it for I did not take it well at first either, good bit of crying and near fainting actually.” There was a knock on the door and Bofur stuck his head around the corner.

“Rounded them up,” Bofur offered. “Found Elladan and Elrohir on the way. Told them what I could.”

“Send the twins in, then the Company. After that, one by one,” Thorin instructed.

Elladan and Elrohir moved quickly to check over both Tilda and Freye. They fretted over the little girl, who they had enjoyed helping braid hair during their stay, and then confirmed Freye’s health before moving to the side. The Company filed in, hugs exchanged quickly.

The first of the new arrivals to walk through the door was Tevrom. Bifur slowly walked toward him, hands shaking and not quite believing his eyes. Tevrom grinned and held out his hand, brushing fingers with his husband for the first time in decades.

“Tev?”

“Hello Bif, long time.” He moved forward, touching Bifur’s scarred forehead. “Not as bad as Bofur made it out to be. Still quite the handsome dwarrow if I do say so myself.” Bifur let out a choked laugh. “Had a disastrous vacation in Dol Guldur. I wouldn’t recommend it.” Bifur laughed then and pulled his husband in for a tight hug before kissing him soundly.

“You’re home.”

“Aye.”

“Braids, I have to redo my braids. We should reaffirm our vows. Oh, we have to tell Lagur and Lenis. They came with us. So many things to do.”

“Calm down.” Tev cupped Bifur’s face and gave him a smile. “We have the time, I promise. For now, Laur! It’s your turn.”

A taller figure came around the door. Legolas stared in disbelief. Tauriel, throwing propriety to the wind, ran across the room and hugged the blond elf.

“Good to see you too,” the elder prince laughed.

“I have missed you, old friend. The Wood has not been the same without you.”

“Prince Laurinion seems last I heard you were dead,” Dís said from her place. “Glad to see that was an exaggeration.”

“I quite agree with Tevrom, Dol Guldur makes for a lousy vacation spot,” Laurinion teased. He grew somber as he saw his brother.

Legolas walked over hesitantly, eyes wide with disbelief and hope. The two brothers stared longingly at each other. The younger was sure at any moment this specter would leave him.

He stepped closer.

Laurinion opened his mouth to say something.

Legolas slapped his brother.

Fíli snorted.

Legolas brought his brother in for a painful hug and buried his face in the taller prince’s shoulder. “You left me. You promised to never go spider hunting without me. You left me behind!” The elf’s whole frame shook. Laurinion wrapped his arms around his little brother and held firm, a comforting presence. “I missed you so much.”

“And I you, little brother. You kept me going.” Laurinion nuzzled his brother’s hair and kissed the side of his head. “I won’t leave you again, promise. Father made me promise as well. He nearly threw me in my room and locked the door when I showed up.”

“I wouldn’t blame him.”

“Mahal’s beard, can I come in now?” another voice called. Dís froze up at the familiar voice, the one she had dreamed about for years. Laurinion shouted in approval and moved with the two elves of the Greenwood to the side.

Víli came around the corner. He was dressed simply but still looked regal. He was the dwarrow that Dís remembered, minus a limb.

“Dís, my love.”

“You son of an orc!”

Dís leapt on him in a blur, punching his shoulder and screaming at him. Thorin pulled her back and she huffed at him. She broke loose from his grasp and latched onto Víli, her mouth finding his in desperation. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close and kissing back. Her fingers wrapped in his hair and braids. Kíli looked at his brother who was hiding his face in mild disgust.

“Uncle, who is that?” Kíli asked.

The happy couple separated, and the unknown dwarrow looked between Dís and his youngest son. He moved closer to his son.

“Kíli son of Dís?” the dwarf asked. The younger prince nodded and stood up. “Kíli son of Víli. It’s good to see one of you took after your mother at least. I always thought it was a shame that Fíli didn’t have the Durin dark hair when he was born, cursed with these golden locks.” Víli touched his own hair before reaching toward Kíli.

“Amad?”

“Sweetheart, meet your father.”

Kíli stared hard at the blond dwarrow before him before promptly fainting, luckily right into Tauriel’s arms. His redheaded lover had seen it coming and rolled her eyes fondly.

“Ori please tell me you can draw that,” Fíli called over.

“Definitely.”

Tauriel managed to rouse Kíli again. He blinked for a few moments, staring at his father, and then Víli found himself with an arm full of dwarrow. His son latched on and hid his face in Víli’s chest.

“Oh Kíli, my lad,” Víli murmured. He kissed the top of Kíli’s head and patted his back. Dís wrapped her son and husband in the hug as well. Fíli smiled from his place. Fíli had a few memories of his father from when he was young, precious few, but Kíli had been born after Víli’s supposed death. All Kíli had ever wanted was to know his father, to know if he made him proud.

“Valar above, Thorin please, are there any more surprises?” Bilbo asked.

“Uh, three,” Thorin replied. “The first one is still outside the door.”

“Who else would be such a surprise?” Dís asked. Then she thought for a moment, looked at her husband, at Laurinion, and then at Tevrom. She pulled away from Kíli and Víli but Víli grasped her shoulder firmly. He feared how she would react this time.

“Naddith,” Thorin called. The dwarrow came around the corner.

Frerin son of Thráin walked closer to his sister. Her knees were weak. His hair was bound in many braids, healthy and long. His beard was neatly done, beads and clasps glittering. He still resembled Kíli in build, lean but defined. He carried a sword on his hip. His clothes were rich and warm. He was everything Dís remembered and more. Even the scars faded from her eyes as she stared at him.

“Nadad.” Dís took a hesitant step forward, hand raised. He met her fingers and brought them to his face. She whimpered as the warm skin greeted her hand. “Frerin!” She wrapped her arms around him and sobbed.

“Easy, Dís.” He held her close with one arm and ran his fingers through her hair with the other. “I’m here.”

“Thorin, did I hear that right?” Bilbo asked.

“You did, my dear. Frerin son of Thráin son of Thrór has returned to us.” Kíli looked at his uncle, then at his brother, and then back to his mother and uncle. “He was at Dol Guldur as well. It’s been a long journey back to health for all of them.”

“Thanks in great part to your daughter-in-law,” Frerin informed his sister. “She spent weeks working with the three of us and the other survivors.”

“The other surprises?” Bilbo asked gently. “Before this becomes too overwhelming.”

“Next is Dwalin and Nori’s,” Thorin replied. He looked at his long time friend who straightened up next to Nori who looped an arm around the old guard.

“Uh, right,” Dwalin spoke. “We’re having a baby.”

“Baby.” Kíli’s deadpan made his brother snort.

“The ArkenTree,” Nori explained. “We were blessed just as your uncles were.”

“Mahal’s beard, just imagine when that child is old enough to walk,” Dís groaned.

“And the last one?” Bilbo prompted.

“Ah, yes, that’s more on our end,” Thorin said. “Freye checked on our Laying-Stone for me. Bilbo, we are having babies.”

“Well yes I thought so; there were many stones the same color as the one that was growing when I left.”

“No, Bilbo, the stone that grows now, it carries two children, a boy and a girl.”

And then, remarkably, a look came over Bilbo’s face that was oddly reminiscent of Bofur scaring him with promises of a dragon. Bilbo fainted into Thorin’s arms.

“Please tell me you can draw that Ori.”

“Do you doubt my skill?”

The whole Company laughed as Thorin picked Bilbo up and carried him off to their chambers. He would reawaken his husband in private and tell him about the other laying-stone growing from the tree.

* * *

One of the most terrifying moments of Thorin’s life occurred shortly before supper that evening. He had welcomed Bilbo home properly, seen to the dispersal of the new arrivals, and had then turned to his nephew and Bifur for a detailed report of the trip to the Shire and back. It was then that Thorin realized just who had come back with Bilbo.

Now, as he stood at the door to the grand dining hall, he had to shake off the nervousness. The hobbits waited inside these doors, mingling with dwarrows. His husband’s family waited inside those doors. Mahal’s ever burning forges, he was a doomed man.

He pushed the door open.

The hobbits had effectively taken over the party atmosphere, though perhaps the giant barrels of mead helped with that. Even his dear Bilbo had a mug in hand and danced around with a few of his cousins.

_Hey Ho to the bottle I go_

_To heal my heart and drown my woe_

_Rain may fall and wind may blow but there’ll still be_

_Many miles to go_

_Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain,_

_And the stream that falls from hill to plain._

_Better than rain or rippling brook,_

_Is a mug of beer inside this Took!_

The whole lot of hobbits fell on each other laughing. Thorin smiled at the antics. Bilbo brought out the best in people and it seemed his relatives did the same.

“Thorin!” Bilbo spotted him and made his way through the crowd. “Was starting to think you had run off.”

“Made it halfway to Dale,” Thorin joked. He pecked Bilbo on the cheek.

“So this is the husband.”

Thorin thought he had feared Azog, feared Smaug. None of the compared to the female voices behind him. The pair turned to see quite the gathering, four older hobbits, and all of them eyeing Thorin critically.

“Can see why Bilbo liked him,” Mirabella teased. “We have heard much about you, Mister Oakenshield.”

“Is that so? I hope I can meet your approval,” Thorin said steadily. Whom was he kidding? These people were the closest he was going to get to Bilbo’s parents; they would not approve for some time he feared.

“Stop scaring the lad, Mirabella,” the male huffed. “Name’s Gorbadoc Brandybuck, Master of Buckland and that one’s uncle.” He held out his hand. Thorin shook it firmly and admired the strength the aging hobbit demonstrated. “This is my wife Mirabella. This is her sister Donnamira Boffin and that is Belba Bolger, sister of Bilbo’s father. We came for the second wedding.”

“Stop approving so soon!” Donnamira chastised. “We haven’t even interrogated the lad proper.”

“I promise you will have plenty of time for that tomorrow,” a new voice said. The group turned to see Dís walking up with Frerin. "Isn’t that right, Brother? We’ll have a proper family meeting.”

“Just how much of the family?” Bilbo inquired.

“You let me take care of that,” Dís said sweetly.

“Mahal’s beard we’re going to die,” Thorin grumbled into Bilbo’s hair. His other half laughed softly and swatted his shoulder.

“Now then, where are the other newlyweds? I thought Freye would have been there to greet us at the gate,” Mirabella said. Thorin stiffened and looked at Bilbo.

“You didn’t tell them?”

“Slipped my mind actually. Drogo and Rori dragged me off to the mead before I could say a word,” Bilbo confessed. “Freye and Fíli won’t be joining us this evening. There was an incident a few days ago. Freye is still recovering along with the youngest of King Bard’s children.”

“Incident? Is Freye all right?”

Thorin turned to address the new voice. It was a young female hobbit with her hair done up in braids.

“She will recover. She was quite ill for a few days but is on the mend,” Thorin promised.

“Thorin this is my cousin Primula Brandybuck.”

Thorin grinned and offered his hand. “Your joint letter with Mister Drogo Baggins was quite entertaining, Miss Brandybuck. Did you really steal the quill?”

“Pushed him off the chair I did,” Primula replied. “Can I see Freye?” Thorin looked at Bilbo who gave a nod.

“I can have one of the guards escort you to her if you wish,” Thorin offered. “Or a member of the Company if they can be spared.”

“I’ll take her, Nadad.” Frerin stepped forward and gave a small bow of his head. “Prince Frerin, Miss Brandybuck.”

The pair walked out of the dining hall, Primula’s skirts gathered up to walk faster. She had been curious as to where another of her wayward Took cousins had been all night. She motioned her brother and Drogo away when they caught her eye; she would tell them later.

She let out a huff as she kept up with Frerin’s longer strides, though he did seem to slow his pace for her.

“So, you’re one of Freye’s cousins then?” Frerin asked.

“Distantly related, yes,” Primula answered. “Of course that’s what happens when a dwarrow line mixes with a hobbit line. The age differences between generations is startling. Something like fifth cousins, but she was around almost every summer when I was a child. Bilbo was like a little brother to her.”

“You trace that far back?”

“Family ties mean a great deal to Hobbits, Master Dwarf. A drop of Took or Brandybuck and the neighbors will never look at you the same again,” Primula confessed. “Tell me the truth, what happened to my cousin?”

Frerin seemed to hesitate. He slowed his pace. Primula matched his and looked up at him. “Any time of a new king is tumultuous,” Frerin began. “More so for my brother. He has long been King of Durin’s Folk but without Erebor, well, he was a king-in-exile. The dwarven kingdoms have been struggling for generations, most of our original lands lost, something I hear we have in common with Hobbits. There have been acts of rebellion against the crown and those that serve it loyally. First, an attempted slaughter in the royal quarters that led to the death of a young dwarrowdam. We thought the punishment would discourage others but we were wrong.”

The Dwarven Prince stopped then, pausing to lean against a wall. “There was a lord who disliked us greatly but had not done anything out right, at least not enough for Thorin to have him thrown from the mountain legally. At the dinner between the kingdoms of the north just a few days ago, he replaced the blueberries with deadly nightshade.”

“By the Green Lady.”

“Agreed, Mistress Hobbit.” He started toward the Halls of Healing again. “Freye took a bite of the dessert before any other. She recognized the danger almost immediately and stopped the rest of the table with the help of Bombur and Óin. Young Princess Tilda had licked the topping on her dessert, enough that she fell ill as well. The concentration was meant to be lethal even with treatment. Freye’s kinship with the Tooks gave her a better fighting chance than most dwarrows. Her fever broke last night and is expected to make a full recovery.”

“And the lord?”

“Best not think of that, Miss.” Primula stopped him with a hand. He looked down at her. “It was not a nice sight.”

“He’s dead then.”

“Yes.”

“Too little punishment then. A child! He would poison three nations! That’s bad enough. But a child? I hope he rots!”

“He was burned after death,” Frerin offered. “So that he may never return to the stone.”

“Serves him right,” she muttered. “Now, Freye.”

“Just up ahead, Mistress.”

“Just Primula, Master Dwarf.”

In the Halls of Healing, Sigrid sat with her sister for their evening meal. The younger princess laughed at a joke Fíli told. The Golden Prince sat beside his wife, a bowl in hand, and a spoon as well. She was propped up on several pillows and smiling.

A soft knocking caught their attention. They looked up to see Frerin appear with a hobbit.

“Prim!”

“Don’t you think about moving!” the hobbittess barked. “Paler than that lad you saved from the Bywater you are.”

“I’m on the mend, Prim. Honest,” she swore.

“That’s not enough for me.” She plopped down on the bench Fíli sat upon. “We were wondering where you were. No one had told us.”

“Sorry Prim. It’s been a rough few days.”

“Rough, she says,” Fíli grumbled. Frerin ruffled his nephew’s hair and he swatted his uncle’s hand away. “So this is the famous Primula then?”

“Aye, what of it?” the spitfire of a hobbit asked.

“Just surprised you don’t have red hair with the way Freye described your spirit,” Fíli remarked.

Primula looked to her cousin with a grin. “I like this one. Where’d you find him?”

“Stumbled up to Bilbo’s led by a wizard that think he knows best.”

“He’s officially a disturber of the peace,” Primula remarked. “Posted in every farthing.” Freye let out a hearty laugh. Oh, Gandalf would love to hear that. “Mum and Aunt Donnamira are going to grill Bilbo’s husband tomorrow. Sounds like his sister is going to help.”

“Bah, she’ll be there to grill Bilbo,” Freye reasoned. “I expected a meeting of my own like that. Dís is Fíli’s mother.” She motioned to her lovely husband.

“She’ll love you,” Fíli insisted. “Helping Uncle Frerin and Da helped on that front.”

“Oh she loves Freye already,” Frerin promised. “Just wants to rib her a bit. I think she’s mad she didn’t get to see Fíli make a fool of himself. I promised her that you still do.”

“Thanks Uncle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is "Ho! Ho! Ho! To the Bottle" from The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. Seemed fitting.


	26. 7-5-2942, Erebor

One of the stranger happenings following the migration of hobbits to the mountain was an odd visitor three days later. He wore all white and rode a white steed. Dwalin and Freye were the first to respond to the odd happenstance.

“Gandalf!” Freye called as he came closer.

“Hello my dear,” the wizard called back. He dismounted at the entrance and walked inside the mountain’s walls. “You seem a bit weak. Are you all right?”

“Just a brush with an angry lord,” she replied.

“What she means is she was poisoned, but Óin and Laurinion cleared her for her duties,” Dwalin told the wizard. “What brings you here, Wizard?”

“News for your king. A great shifting has occurred throughout the land.”

“He is holding court now,” Freye offered. “I can take you.”

“That might be for the best my dear.”

They walked silently for a few minutes. Dwalin had taken the steed from Gandalf and allowed the wizard to walk unguarded with the princess…though there was a silent guard following her. He was an overprotective great-uncle after all.

“Did you hear you have a new title in the Shire?” Freye inquired.

“Oh?”

“Disturber of the Peace. Primula says it’s been put on a poster and distributed in all the farthings.”

Gandalf snorted. “All this for nudging Bilbo out a door.”

“You threw a party at his house.”

“Details, details.” Freye shook her head and opened the door to the court.

“The store front may be built,” Thorin said. “I see no issue with it even if it not within traditional market divides. The market is vast and diversifying it will not harm us.”

“Thank you, my king.” The two parties walked away and Freye worked her way through the crowd. She as lucky there were elves and men in attendance, otherwise Gandalf would have brought the attention on them the moment they entered.

“Next case,” Thorin called out.

“Excuse me, my king!” she called out. He turned toward her voice.

“Freye, what brings you to court?”

“A guest,” she answered. “May I present Gandalf? He has some news that seems urgent.” Thorin looked at his sister and Balin before nodding. Gandalf came out of the crowd with Freye. She moved to Thorin’s side, falling into the representative position beside Fíli’s empty chair (others duting having called him away).

“Gandalf, what news do you bring?”

“The downfall of Sauron.” A whisper broke through the crowd but Thorin raised his hand to silence them.

“Truly? How was this done?”

“The details are not clear,” Gandalf replied. “It seems at the beginning of last winter a great force destroyed what last footholds Sauron had in Middle Earth. The other members of the White Council felt the change and investigated. We were impeded by a traitor in our midst, who has now faced judgement.”

“What could have brought about the end of Sauron and will others rise in his place?” Thorin inquired.

“Others will always rise up and cause chaos,” Gandalf said. “I do not think it will ever match the destruction of Sauron though. As for the means, I suspect the One Ring has been destroyed by forces unknown.”

Thorin glanced at Freye who seemed to have the same thought he did.

“We shall continue this chat in private, Gandalf. Dís, can you handle the rest of court?”

“Of course, Brother.”

“Freye with us.” She followed behind Thorin and Gandalf to his private study. Thorin collected Bilbo before they reached the study and closed the door behind them.

“Gandalf what ever are you doing here?” Bilbo inquired. “And you have changed your color scheme.”

“A promotion of a sort,” Gandalf informed him. “And one that came at a cost. Saruman the White was the traitor in our midst, which explains his actions in Rivendell last year. It took many Maiar to subdue him at his strength. Some of us paid with our lives but were rewarded for our service.” He motioned to the white clothes he wore. “The great darkness that has been on Middle Earth is lessening. Now it is the evil that lingers and that which is naturally created by all species.”

“The orcs?” Thorin inquired.

“Exisiting but slowly dying out,” Gandalf answered. “They drew strength from Sauron. Without him, they will die out. It will take generations, longer than any of you will be alive.” He sat down in a chair, one of the three larger chairs in the room. “But I think that is not what you wanted to ask me.”

“The One Ring,” Thorin said slowly, “what did it look like?”

“It was a simple trinket in appearance,” Gandalf answered. “Gold, plain. Letters would have appeared on it if you dropped it in a fire.”

“And its abilities?” Freye pried.

“It would have enhanced the abilities of the one who wore it.”

“So for a hobbit, could it make them invisible?” Freye inquired. Gandalf thought about it and then nodded. Freye marched over to her cousin and whacked his arm. “I told you that thing was trouble!”

“Hey, I listened and never used it after the spiders!”

“It’s gone,” Thorin said placatingly.

“You knew of it,” Gandalf realized. “What did you do?”

“The ArkenTree,” Freye replied. “There was a stone that felt like a void, like something unworldly. There was a perfect ring in it, the size of Bilbo’s ring. He put it in and it turned to ash in his hand, stone and ring both.”

“The Arkenstone should not have had the power to do such an act,” Gandalf murmured. His eyes widened. “I did not realize the Valar had interferred that much.”

“Gandalf?” Bilbo asked.

“Your quest was watched,” Gandalf informed him. “Mahal and Yavanna walked these halls until the day of the battle, watching what happened. They blessed your unions. They made it so both Bilbo and Freye would have lifespans to match their spouses. They must have created a way for the ring to be destroyed.”

“A portal to Mount Doom,” Thorin said.

“Perhaps,” Gandalf replied.

“I was joking.”

“But it may have been just that.” Gandalf shook his head and stood up. “With Sauron gone, things will change. I’ve already heard whispers. The dragons of the north are behaving differently. One kidnapped a family of dwarrows and secured them in an old dwarrow hall. It keeps bringing more dwarrows and demanded trade for the dwarrows it has taken under its wing, almost as if it was protecting them. I have not seen a dragon protect another species in Ages. There is even rumor that Durin’s Bane has been removed from Moria, though I beg you to wait until I have confirmed that myself.”

“I will not set foot in those cursed halls until the safety of my people can be guaranteed,” Thorin swore. “And perhaps a decade longer after that. Can we expect problems with dragons?”

“As I recall, there used to be one that protected Durin’s line, when they were smaller and made for protecting hoardes and royals. Time will tell. If one does appear, send for me before any violence is used if possible.”

“I can have the lords briefed and locate Laurinion. Sigrid is still in the mountain and can relay the news to her father. She plans to return to Dale in the morning.”

“Have Nori’s shadows contact the skinchangers,” Thorin added, “and a message sent to Dáin.”

Freye left the room then. Thorin sat down heavily and turned to Gandalf once more. The old wizard glanced over at Bilbo and grinned.

“I see some of your family made the trip east.”

“Thorin’s terrified of them,” Bilbo remarked.

“Rightly so,” Thorin grumbled. “Mirabella and Donnamira have ambushed me on several occassions. I will never undstand how you hobbits are so damn quiet.”

“We don’t wear shoes.” Thorin huffed at his husband’s antics.

“Erebor seems healthier than I expected,” Gandalf remarked. “The Seed-Stone has done all this?”

“It healed the soul of Erebor and we healed the body,” Thorin said. “We’ve found tendrils of the ArkenTree throughout most of Erebor. It does seem to stay away from the edges of the mountain and out of the mines.”

“A few of the stones have started migrating as well,” Bilbo reported. “And another has begun to grow. That makes four total.”

“Four?”

“Dwalin and Nori,” Bilbo stated. “There’s starting growing while I was gone. Tevrom and Bifur have one as well. It started growing about a day after Bifur’s return. Freye found a second stone of mine and Thorin’s growing as well.”

“Just don’t let it be another set of twins. I don’t know how we’re going to handle the two we have,” Thorin bemoaned. “Freye said she can feel them from our room and our daughter is throwing quite the tantrum and wants to be running around with her cousins.”

“If they are anything like their Took relatives, you have your work cut out for you Thorin,” Gandalf warned.

“So I’ve been told. Mirabella has taken a particular delight in torturing me with tales of Bilbo’s adventures as a child and his mother’s as well.”

“No one can live up to Belladonna’s adventures.”

“I should certainly hope not. I’d like to make 200,” Thorin grumbled.

* * *

The knocking on Brynye’s door startled her out of her thoughts. It had been quite the adjustment moving in with Balin. He had the quarters ready for her arrival and she smiled at all the details. Young Jade had shyly introduced herself the day of her arrival and said that she could leave if her presence made Brynye uncomfortable. The elder dwarrowdam had shaken her head and drawn her into her arms.

“I won’t abandon a fellow orphan,” Brynye had said. “Now then lass, tell me about youself.”

That had been a few days ago. Jade had her routine and she should be studying with a few of the young dwarrows down in the learning halls. At this time of day, the lords’ quarters were relatively deserted. Only Tevrom was normally around but Brynye knew he was off working with Bifur in his husband’s new little shop.

When she opened the door, it was Dís who greeted her. The dwarrowdam stood with a look of unease and holding an envelope.

“Dís, my friend, you know you can enter after announcing yourself.”

“Not for this one,” she replied. “I, uh, I was sorting through some old belongings, Thrór’s beads and all that. Thorin wanted them. That was when I found this and I remembered something.” She held out the letter. “The week we settled in Ered Luin, Sigin’adad gave that to me. He said if we ever retook Erebor and if you were with us, that you should see that.” She shifted under Brynye’s gaze. “I haven’t read it.”

“Dís would you be a dear and make some tea?”

“Of course.”

Brynye sat down at her desk and opened the envelope. The parchment had yellowed with age but each rune was perfectly legible.

* * *

> Dearest Brynye,
> 
> I am sorry. I am sorry for the struggles of your life. I am sorry for your lack of heritage. What I am most sorry for is what I do now, turning my back on one that is kin. I am your uncle, the eldest of Dáin the First’s children. With the royalty of Durin’s Folk cast out of their home, I would not wish this fate upon you. No, you are better off with the halflings. There you will have a good life, a whole life, and will never want for food as some of us have.
> 
> I should speak of your mother. I have done a great many things wrong when it comes to your mother and your aunt Fori. Your mother, Isolde, was born in 2610 of the Third Age, healthy and screaming. Fori, the youngest of us siblings, was born in 2640. Their mother Deri was a wonderful woman, so much so that I considered her a second mother. She could never replace my mother but I loved her dearly.
> 
> My son Thráin would know Isolde and Fori well. They were raised alongside him. He is only four years younger than Fori. They got into great acts of mischief, ones your mother always tried to stop. Your mother was very serious from a young age. I think we put too much on her too soon. My father had hoped she would find her One in a lord. If that had been the case, he could have fought the Council of Lords for full rights to declare her his daughter. The Council would not let them be recognized as princesses, something that haunted my father until his death. She was treated differently by the lords, like a burden. She hated that. She refused to take any hand outs. She fought for every inch. She joined the guards when she was old enough and learned enough to be a great warrior. Then she slipped through my father’s hands, out into the caravans never to grace Erebor again.
> 
> I will confess I have seen her once since that day. I hunted her for years. She may have been an unwanted consequence of my father’s relationship with Deri in my eyes, at least when I was younger, but she was still my sister. I had grown to love her. When she was small, I would tell her stories. When she wanted to start fighting, I made her armor and made her win each piece from me. She was strong and stubborn, a Durin through and through. She spoke with the ravens better than most. They loved her, flocked to her. If she was distressed, she would hide up with the ravens and tend to them. I have lost count of how many times I carried her back to her chambers after discovering her sound asleep past the midnight bell among the ravens. 
> 
> I am sorry I was distracted. This old mind is not what it used to be and gold has addled it more than I will admit. I saw your mother a few years before you were born, before her marriage to your father. I had gone out, dressed as a royal messenger and with only two guards, to see if I could convince her to come home. I had a place arranged for her, a good argument against the lords, and I was willing to declare her my sister in name and birthright, forsaking the Council’s wishes, if only she would come home. 
> 
> But then I saw her. Your mother was laughing, full and heartily. I had never seen her laugh with such wild abandon. The dwarrow beside her, your father, was grinning as she laughed, continuing on with the story. I thought they were just friends, and then she kissed him. I asked for the gossip about them and learned they had been partnered for many years, clearly were each other’s One, but that they never acted on it, something holding them back.
> 
> I knew what that was. I knew what my appearance would do. Your mother would lose her chance with her One if I was so selfish as to uproot her. So I didn’t. I passed along a letter and left. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.
> 
> I do not know what would have been better, to have uprooted her but had you born in Erebor and your parents never dying at the hands of greedy bandits but risk your death at the hands of Smaug, or have things happen as they did. You seem happy with your family. Your mothers seem kind, tender. The dwarrows that took you in are of a good sort, honorable. Perhaps it was best things happened as they did.
> 
> I run out of paper, dearest niece, but let me say this clearly. I, Thrór son of Dáin I, hereby declare you my kin. You are my niece by way of my sister Isolde. I declare Isolde my sister and Princess of Erebor.
> 
> Thráin will know my writing and so will Thorin. They will know this is the truth. I just hope the day will come where Dís can give you this one last missive from a mad old dwarrow.
> 
> Have a good life, my dearest niece.
> 
> Thrór son of Dáin, Exiled King Under the Mountain

* * *

Dís returned to find her friend crying into her hands. Brynye handed her the letter to read. Dís skimmed it quickly before pulling her dear friend in for a hug. To have lost family without ever knowing them was never an easy thing to accept.


	27. 8-14-2942, Erebor

8-14-2942, Erebor

The word of the approaching orc army reached the Mountain two days before the orcs would break through the treeline. Dale was evacuated for the most part. The women, the children, the sick, and the elderly all traveled to Erebor and were put up in the halls specifically designated for such an attack. The warriors of Dale, so most of the men and a few women, fortified the walls and prepared for a fight. Thorin sent a contingent of dwarrows to reinforce their numbers.

The hobbits had been disturbed by the news of the coming attack, especially with the harvest at such a critical point. What had been planted needed to survive to help with the winter food storage. The hobbits had fought hard to get the crops to grow, bleeding and sweating alongside both dwarrows and men. Now, with the battle looming, the hobbit holes deployed their defenses. Hidden stone doors swung closed to hide and secure the fronts of all the smials. The inner doors of each dwelling were locked with dwarven magic after the last of the hobbits had evacuated. They found lodging with the people of Dale or with friends living in Erebor proper.

Thorin coordinated with Dwalin and Tauriel to plan the attack. Dwalin would take his most trusted men and go out the secret passage to ambush the orcs. Tauriel would lead the archers and Ravenhill was prepared for the attack.

“Freye!” She jogged up between arming dwarrows. “I will need you to lead another smaller force through the secret entrance by the smials. You’ll meet with Dwalin’s team and continue the attack while Fíli and Kíli lead the eastern front.”

“Uh, Nu’adad, it may be best that I sit this one out.” He gave her a stare. Dwalin and Tauriel did as well. “It would be best if you do not send me out.”

“Why not? I need every able-bodied fighter. Freye for you to not fight on the front lines with your reputation would bring great scrutiny down upon us. If there is something I must know, speak now. I need trusted generals on the front lines. You inspire the people.”

“I know Nu’adad but it is necessary.” She searched his eyes pleading silently.

“What’s this about you not joining the offensive?” Kíli questioned as he approached with Fíli in tow. “I thought you’d be itching for a fight. You’ve missed training the past two weeks.” That was true. Thorin considered that. Freye hadn’t been to morning training in two weeks and hadn’t felt well the week before. Wait a moment-.

“I… I just… Thorin.” Her voice cracked. Valar above, she could not find her voice.

“Freye?” It was Fíli. He put a steady hand on her shoulder. She shook her head and leaned into his shoulder.

“She pregnant.” It was said by Tauriel. The dwarrows turned to look at her as the dwarrowdam hid her face in Fíli’s shoulder. “That’s why you’ve missed training,” Tauriel continued.

“Freye?” It was Fíli again.

“I found out yesterday,” she told him, “but with the stress and the risks, I did not want to tell you until I knew the seed was more firmly rooted. I was going to wait a few weeks, until I knew for certain.” She moved back from him just a bit. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up only to have a complication and lose it.”

“No, no, you’re well within your rights to do that,” Fíli promised. He gathered her in for a hug again and looke at his uncle. They would not send a pregnant dwarrowdam into battle.

“I will lead them.” Thorin turned to see Frerin walking up in his armor. “I will lead the troops through the smial exit. Have Freye command the troops on the wall alongside Dís. She will be included in the battle but far enough from harm.”

“I agree,” Dwalin voiced.

“Then that is what we shall do,” Thorin said. “Freye, Freye please look at me.” It took her a moment but she did. “If anything dares to try breaching the wall, you will get to safety. A babe is more important than apperances. Am I understood?”

“Yes Thorin.”

“And the next time you need to sit out of a battle because of pregnancy concerns, just mention the future of Erebor and I should get the hint. As it is, Dís!” His sister jogged up and looked at the confusing sight. “Freye will lead the archers on the wall alongside you. If a breach attempt is made, have your loyalist fighters get her as far from the battle as possible.”

Dís looked at her daughter-in-law critically. “I knew that was morning sickness I heard. Come on lass, let’s go rally the troops.”

* * *

As it would turn out, the orcs would never make it close to the gates of Erebor. With the fight split between Erebor and Dale, the orcs never stood a chance. Their survival rates dwindled even further when a band of elves swooped in from behind and carved a large swatch through the army and leading the charge were the Princes of Greenwood.

Fíli worked on the clasps of his armor as he walked toward his door. Dís had sent Freye back from the wall when the battle had lessened, back to help the injured already pulled from the battlefield. He had arrived a few hours after the closing of the battle, seen to his own contingent of dwarrows, sent his brother to have his wounds tended to by a certain redheaded elf, and greeted Legolas and Laurinion with wide smiles and offers of berths for the elves that had come to their aid. Bilbo, who had been left in charge of the running of the inside of the mountain, had promised a good meal in thanks. Now, not too terribly long before the supper, Fíli made his way to his chambers to undress and bathe.

He heard a gentle humming as he walked in. He pulled his armor off and hung it up. A few hours more would not hurt the armor. He would see to it after supper and after he had talked with his wife.

He pulled out his braids and put the beads and clasps in a bowl with warm soapy water to wash what blood had touched them. He stripped bare and grabbed new clothes to wear.

There were certain perks of being the crown prince; Fíli had to admit that. While the majority of the royal family favored the great royal bath and bathing together, it was nice to have a private bath to enjoy time with one’s spouse. Freye sat on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water and braids pulled out.

“How long have you been waiting?” he asked.

“I heard Kíli greet Víli,” she answered. “I knew you wouldn’t be far behind.”

He climbed down into the pool and stepped in front of her. The blood slipped away and he raised his hands up to lay against her taunt stomach. He could not tell there was a child growing within yet. She leaned forward so that her head rested atop his.

“A baby,” he murmured.

“Sigin’amad was quite surprised when I asked for her help,” Freye admitted.

“I am glad you did not go out into battle today,” Fíli told her. “Uncle Frerin met unexpected resistance on his front. Help me wash?”

“Of course.” He pulled her gently into the water and settled down against a bench. She settled in his lap and grabbed the soap from the edge of the pool. Her hands lingered as she washed the battle away from skin and hair. He returned the favor before pulling her close and floating with her in the water. “Fíli?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not mad I didn’t tell you I suspected?”

“No.” He moved so he was sitting, pulling her floating form close. “No I am not. With the dangers we have faced, the attempts on our lives, I understand.” He gave her a reassuring smile and kissed her gently. “You do know what this means though, right?”

“Hmm?”

“Dwalin will have a more noticable guard on you on top of the shadow Nori always has following you around.”

“That was the other reason I didn’t tell anyone yet,” she confessed.

It was actually worse than either of them had suspected. Dwalin found her two guards, Beriadis and Turidis. The fiercely loyal elves turned into her constant companions. It was incredibly frustrating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't actually know if anyone will reply to this, but I could use some help with baby names. We have Thorin and Bilbo's twins, I haven't picked what the new stone they have is having (single or multiple birth), I think Tevrom and Bifur are just going to have one baby, and then there's our lovely Prince and Princess who will probably have one baby unless someone can come up with a good set for twins. 
> 
> Um, what else? I don't know. I had a thought. I lost the thought.


	28. 8-20-2942, Erebor

8-20-2942, Erebor

“Higher, Estel.” The boy grunted and switched his grip on the sword. He blocked the next blow. Gimli smiled as the boy blocked him. He switched his method and caught the young lad off guard and the broadside of his axe hit Estel’s hip. The boy let out a huff as he hit the ground. “How about a break?” Freye called from her place beside the ring.

“I can keep going,” Estel promised.

“It’s not a matter of can, laddie. It’s a matter of if you should,” Gimli countered. “I could use a break myself.” He headed for the side where a barrel of water waited. He took a cup and filled it full before taking a second and doing the same. He held it out to Estel as the boy trudged over. “You should drink.”

“You are improving,” Freye promised. “Thsese things take time Estel. You will be a great warrior one day.”

“Like all of you?”

“Perhaps even better,” a new voice remarked. Freye turned and smiled as Prince Legolas walked up. “Princess Freye, Estel, Gimli.”

“I have told you many times to call me Freye,” she reminded him.

“And I will after every formal first greeting,” he answered. “I came to see if Gimli might be up for a spar. My brother keeps letting me win. I would like a challenge.”

“Any chance to give the princeling a run for his money is enough to convince me,” Gimli replied with a snort. “Just a moment.”

“Take your time.” Legolas sat beside Freye. She had several documents beside her and flipped through them. “Your job never ends does it?”

“Not really,” Freye replied. “The first batch of letters back from the Shire arrived last week. With the news of settling here showing a favorable atmosphere toward hobbits, there are more that wish to try their hand out here. Mostly young ones from large families that will not inherit much. Luckily, there are not that many Tooks left that wish to uproot themselves. I think Bilbo would go mad if too many more joined those here.”

“Having met your cousins, I can quite agree. They make Princes Fíli and Kíli appear calm.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard Kíli called that,” Gimli commented. “All right you elfish princeling, let’s get to me wiping the floor with you.”

“I look forward to your attempt.” The two broke away and chose their weapons. Estel turned to Freye as he watched the pair snip back and forth.

“Freye?”

“Yes, young one?”

“What is wrong with those two? They are fighting. They should concentrate.”

“You will understand when you’re older, lad.”

“When I’m older?”

“You know how Fíli and I are married, how Thorin and Bilbo are?” He nodded. “When we spar with our spouses, we snip at each other.”

Estel was quiet for a few minutes before asking, “Does that mean they’re married?”

Freye let out a laugh and replied, “No lad, but I suspect they will one day. Those two are flirting by way of battle, a tactic well loved and well used by both dwarrows and elves.”

“Why not just say it?”

“They’re not ready yet,” Freye answered. “Watch as you age.”

“Yes ma’am.”

* * *

The Council meeting had ended in an argument. With the news of Sauron’s defeat and the weakening orc forces, the Council had proposed making a run on Moria. Balin had been one of the more vocal lords. He tried to reason with Thorin that the orcs would not have the strength and that two solid old dwarrow kingdoms would be better than one and a handful of colonies elsewhere.

The meeting had ended with Thorin striking the table and yelling, “I will not let a foolhardy quest for Moria occur. We have just gotten Erebor back. To divide our forces would lead to trouble. That is the end of the discussion!”

Bilbo had apologized to the lords before following after Thorin with Balin in tow. Balin wanted to know why Thorin was so against fighting for Moria.

They found Thorin sitting in his office, head in hands and shoulders shaking.

“Thorin?”

“We do not know of Durin’s Bane still resides in Moria.” Thorin looked up to Balin. “There are rumors among the Maiar that it also faded with Sauron but there is no certainty. Gandalf said he would investigate for us and see if it was safe for our return. I will not risk our people for that cursed home if it still lives. We still need Erebor stable. Please, Balin, do not ask this of me again for at least ten years. Let Erebor grow strong. Let the dwarrows return as they once were. Let us thrive and then turn to reclaiming Moria.”

“Laddie if that was what concerned you, you should have said so,” Balin answered. “I’ll speak with the lords. We will shelve it for now.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you laddie.”

Balin left the office behind, shaking his head. Perhaps Thorin was right. Moria had taken too many lives already. Could they really risk another attempt on her gates?

Ten years was barely anything for a dwarrow. He could wait. If, in ten years, he decided it was still something worth pursuing, he would address it then. For now, he would be grateful for what he did have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, before I hear one Gimli/Legolas complaint, here is my response: They are not yet in a relationship. They won't even get together in my story most likely. I'm not writing that many years ahead to get their official getting together scene in. Also, can you seriously tell me it was all platonic between them? Gimli is the only dwarrow I know of that has ever gone to the Undying Lands and that speaks a lot about their relationship. It means that Gimli was forsaking Mahal's Halls, seeing his family in the afterlife, to spend his days with Legolas. Just really? You can't tell me that they were at the very least life partners.


	29. 9-2-2942, Erebor

Word came from the north of an approaching cold-drake. The skinchangers reported a smaller drake than the calamity that had been Smaug but one that would still be dangerous for Erebor and Dale. Word was sent to Gandalf.

The drake slithered into the vale a week later. The light blue scaled dragon settled down on a hill that overlooked both Dale and Erebor. For two days, no one left either city. The dragon barely moved except to find food, to do one circle around the vale, and then settle down. It was waiting for something.

It was two weeks after its arrival that winds picked up on the mountain and a great roar was heard. The drake leapt into the air, great wings beating. In Dale, the black arrows were brought out and prepared. Similarly, on the wall of Erebor, black arrows were aimed up toward the blue dragon.

It sped up until it collided with something that emerged from the clouds. A fire-drake smaller than Smaug fought against the blue scaled drake. Its fire slammed into the blue scales. The cold-drake spun back around and opened its mouth. Ice shot from its mouth and wrapped around the fire-drake’s snout.

The fight was short, shorter than any fight between dragons witnessed in many an age. The fire-drake let out a haunting scream as the cold-drake froze its wing and cut it loose from its body. Another swipe of its great clawed feet brought the fire-drake down. It fell to the ground, blood spreading out and running toward the lake.

The cold-drake snorted and turned away. It curled up on its perch and went back to sleep.

On the wall, Thorin watched the scene. Bilbo stood beside him as did most of the lords and royals.

“Gandalf was telling the truth then,” Freye commented.

“Should we speak with it?” Kíli inquired.

“We should wait a few more days,” Brynye spoke up. I think anyone would be cranky after fighting a fire-drake. Might let it rest first.”

That seemed like the reasonable thing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't writing out an entire fight scene between two dragons. Oh, and I took the liberty of making the cold-drakes ice breathers. Why? It seemed like it would fit. All that it says from what I found is that they do not breathe fire. Why would they be cold-drakes then? It can't just be their skin and their location. So yeah, they breathe ice.


	30. 9-3-2942, Outside of Erebor

9-3-2942, Outside of Erebor

Previously:

_On the wall, Thorin watched the scene. Bilbo stood beside him as did most of the lords and royals._

_“Gandalf was telling the truth then,” Freye commented._

_“Should we speak with it?” Kíli inquired._

_“We should wait a few more days,” Brynye spoke up. I think anyone would be cranky after fighting a fire-drake. Might let it rest first.”_

_That seemed like the reasonable thing to do._

* * *

Presently:

It didn’t stop a certain pair from sneaking out early the next morning and riding out toward the dragon. They made plenty of noise as to not sneak up on it and kept in its line of sight while approaching. They secured their ponies safely away from the drake and approached on foot.

“So you have decided to be brave,” the drake commented.

“King Thorin said to wait a few more days but we thought that might be viewed as rude,” the dwarrow answered. “I am Crown Prince Fíli of Erebor and this is my wife Princess Freye, Lady of the Wanderers.”

“Independence inside of a royal house, that is good,” the drake remarked. “I am Mystrys. My line once protected these lands, before Morgoth corrupted us. I wish to serve these lands once more.”

“And provide aid in the safety of Dale and Erebor?”

“And the Greenwood and the Iron Hills if given enough warning,” Mystrys replied. She looked behind Freye and let out a cold snort. “You have been followed.” The pair turned and let out a chuckle. Kund creapt forward and sat down between them. “A warg. He has been with you for some time, since before the fall of the Dark One.”

“He is family,” Fíli replied. “We are willing to treat with you, Lady Mystrys.”

“Then let us treat. Tomorrow at noon I will meet you halfway between Dale and Erebor, on that hill there.” She pointed with a great clawed hand. “I will speak with both kingdoms.”

“Thank you for your time, Lady Mystrys,” Fíli said.

“Uh, before you go, a favor.” The dwarrows nodded. “I’ve got a scale that’s sticking up out of place. Hadiar managed to get a claw under it. I can’t reach it.” She turned so the base of her neck was turned toward them. Freye moved forward and looked closely. The large scale, enough to cover stomach with excess, was pulled up and sticking straight out from Mystry’s scales.

“Would you have me remove it? I do not think I can get it to lay flat. The flesh underneath appears burned,” Freye remarked.

“Then remove it, Princess.” Freye nodded and adjusted how she stood. She grasped the scale and pulled as hard as she could. It slid out after a moment. She looked up at Mystrys as she brought her head around to blow frozen air across the wound. “Do with my scale what you wish, little mother. Perhaps a guard for your child. Mithril will cut it.”

“A gift?” Freye asked.

“A show of good faith, a gift, yes,” Mystrys replied. “Until tomorrow.”

“Until then,” Fíli promised.

The pair mounted up and turned toward the mountain. Time to face Thorin.

* * *

“ARE YOU INSANE?!”

As it turned out, it was not Thorin whose wrath fell upon them first. Bilbo Baggins practically had steam pouring out of his ears as he charged toward the pair. Kund had trailed after them once again and Freye patted his head as he nosed her side.

“Uncle,” Fíli started to say.

“No! You do not get to speak!” He reached up and grabbed them both by the ears, twisting hard and pulling them down. The members of the Company present—Bofur, Kíli, Nori, and Dwalin—laughed as they both yelped. “A dragon! You confronted a dragon. We said wait!”

“Bilbo, ghivashel,” Thorin called as he approached with Dís and Balin in tow, “calm down. Let them speak.”

Bilbo huffed but looked at the pair with eyes that demanded answers and said that unsatisfactory ones would result in another twisting of the ear.

“We had not made an attempt to talk with her before and we continued after she defended our kingdoms. We feared that her temper would grow short,” Freye replied.

“And was it?” Thorin inquired.

“She was pleased we came,” Fíli answered. “The dragon’s name is Mystrys and her family once defended these lands. That is what she wishes to do once more. She is willing to treat with both kingdoms tomorrow at a neutral location.”

“And the dragon scale?” Dís asked.

“The fire-drake got under it and had yanked it up. Mystrys could not reach it. She said Freye could keep it as a gift,” Fíli said. “She suggested making it into a guard for around her stomach.”

Dís let out a hum and motioned for the scale. She compared it to her daughter-in-law’s figure and let out a nod. “Come on then. I’ll sleep better knowing you have something nearly indestructible protecting that little one.”

Behind closed doors, Dís and Brynye let Freye have it with their disappointment at her recklessness. She just shook her head.

The next day, Thorin and Bard treated with the dragon for hours. When Thorin returned at nearly sundown, it was with a dragon accompanying him. She settled down outside of the gate with a loud huff. It seemed the other thing Mystrys was good at was taking care of children. The next morning, the dwarflings and faunts were found under the care of one ever so patient cold-drake who made a small snow shower and watched the children throw snowballs at each other in the summer heat. The day after, she went to Dale and did the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What were the terms of the arrangement? No killing the people of the kingdoms without reason. The dead dragon's body could be salvaged from (scales, claws, and teeth). Mystrys would protect the vale for as long as the dwarrows and men treated her with the respect she deserves. Etc. I don't know. I really didn't want to write the negotiations. Like, when I had that idea, I did. Now? I don't. Additionally, I got the idea of the dragons having once been protectors from someone else. I can't remember the fic off the top of my head. It had Bilbo in maybe a time-travel situation, Smaug was a female with eggs, they bonded with Smaug and the eggs hatched, and Bilbo took the baby dragons to other nations so that they could bond with the royals elsewhere. Etc. If someone recognizes that description and remembers the story, let me know. 
> 
> ALSO! THANK YOU FOR READING! I've gotten a few comments lately and it just occurred to me that I haven't really been responding to them throughout the series. I apologize. I'm normally ahead working on something and it just slips my mind. I already have someone suggest some baby names, thank you! If you have a question or a plot point that you want addressed, let me know. I don't have a lot more planned for this, a few things here and there, but if there is something that is well and truly bothering you, let me know. I can throw in a short spin off or chapter to answer a plot point or something.


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